


Sectumsempra

by iguer



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Enemies, Enemies to Lovers, Hate Sex, Love/Hate, M/M, Slash, they're attracted to each other but hate each other still
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:48:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 16
Words: 27,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27185434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iguer/pseuds/iguer
Summary: During summer vacation after his fifth year at Hogwards, Harry can't stop thinking about something he overheard Draco say... that Draco has a crush on Harry... maybe even more than a crush. Now Harry is obsessed with making sense of it all and he can't wait to get back to Hogwarts to confront Malfoy about it. But will he do it? Will he be able to? Of course none of that changes the hatred he feels towards Malfoy, nothing could lessen it, but Harry'll discover that maybe something else can coexist with hate.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 8
Kudos: 79





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry listens to a conversation between Draco and Moaning Myrtle at the end of 5th year and can't stop thinking about it all summer long; can't wait to be back at Hogwarts and see Draco again.

That was the one thing Harry decided not to tell his friends. He couldn’t put his finger upon the exact reason, but he just didn’t feel like sharing that. Somewhere inside there was a hint that the reason was that he was ashamed, but he didn’t admit it to himself. And of course that was absurd. Why would he be ashamed of something Draco Malfoy had said?

The only possible connection that could make him feel ashamed, or even slightly embarrassed, was he caring about anything Malfoy had to say, and of course, he didn’t. So no, overhearing Draco talking to Moaning Myrtle meant nothing to Harry. He was only curious as to what it all meant. Had he heard correctly? Yes, he had, he was sure of it. He remembered everything with vivid detail, the boredom for not having anything to do since it was the second to last day of term, the anxiety of coming home to the Dursleys. He had decided to just pace around, just so he did something, instead of lying in bed watching the ceiling, maybe he’d find someone to chat or something like that.

He had found himself on the corridor of Myrtle’s bathroom and before he knew, he was walking towards it. He’d noticed the door was ajar and in the last second, just before he pushed it wide open, he had heard voices inside, which had brought him out of his boredom stupor; also, not Myrtle’s voice, which had made him pay attention to it. He had looked through the gap and saw that the coast was clear, he could open the door a little wider and sneak in, it was possible to stay hidden at the side of the closest stall. He did just that and listened. Draco’s voice, whining like a child with a broken toy.

Ugh, such a spoiled baby, Harry had thought to himself.

“Why did this have to happen to me?” Draco had asked.

“It’s okay, Draco, it happens with everyone.”

“But, why me? And why him?” The last word was stressed with spite, but also, it felt like maybe there was more in there, a little… hurt?

“Come, now, Draco, it’s not the end of the world,” Myrtle had said.

“Yeah, but it certainly feels like it is,” Draco had answered. “Oh, god, of everyone in this place, if could be anyone, anyone. Why him?” He had paused to exhale a big breath, then continued, “And it’s for real, you know, it really is. I tried to deny it to myself, to convince me it was just a crush, that it’d go away, but it’s not, it is for real, Myrtle. Oh, god, I’m in love with him. What would my father say to that?”

“Are you planning on telling him?”

“Oh, my god, no! He can’t know, he’d kill me if he knew. He’d kill me,” he had paused, and when he spoke again, he sounded like he was crying, “I hate that this is happening, and I hate him!”

“He’s not guilty, you know?”

“Of course I know he’s not, but still, I hate him. I fucking hate Potter!”

Harry had been trying to make sense of things, but that just didn’t fit. What did that mean? He tried to snoop around the corner of the stall, maybe seeing the scene helped it seem more real, because up to that point it had only felt like a crazy dream.

He carefully had looked carefully around the wooden stall corner and certainly had seen Draco Malfoy by a sink and Moaning Myrtle by his side. He had only been able to catch a few moment’s glance, though, because right on cue Draco had looked to his reflection in the mirror, then had shifted his gaze to somewhere over his reflection’s shoulder and had said, “hey! Who’s there!?”

Harry then had instantly turned to the door and run.

Did he see me? He had thought to himself. No, he can’t have. Or can he?

Midway through his summer, he still had the same question floating around his mind. Did he see it was me? That question was accompanied only by all the others he had. What was all that? He was talking about me all the time? It had to be, by the looks of it, but it makes no sense!

Why would Draco say those things? Why would he be talking about Harry? What did he mean with “he thought it was just a crush, but it was for real”? None of that made any sense. Malfoy having a crush on Harry? Malfoy? Another reason for him to decide to not tell any of this to his friends was that they wouldn’t believe him; he, for one, would never believe if he was Ron or Hermione. He still didn’t quite believe it even being there when it happened.

Deep inside the confusion and curiosity made him feel something he didn’t dare admit to himself. He was eager to go back to Hogwarts, more specifically, to go to Hogwarts and see Malfoy again. It was all very confusing and he wasn’t gonna rest until he met Malfoy again and got some answers from him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry sees Draco in Knockturn Alley;  
> Scene on the train.

And rest he did not. Not for one second did Harry stop thinking about Draco. Trying to figure out what he meant when he said those things to Myrtle became Harry’s obsession. What could it mean? Besides, of course, the obvious meaning. But no, that couldn’t be it… could it? No. There had to be other explanation.

That only made his being locked indoors worse. Impossibly, he felt even more desperate to leave the Dursleys’. He pictured himself leaving the house in many different ways. He imagined Dumbledore arriving and telling he’d take Harry somewhere else; or Ron once again showing up in his dad’s Ford Anglia by his bedroom window to rescue him; or even he simply sneaking out and running away.

His imaginations were many, but in all of them, before he knew it, Draco popped up at some point.

*

When his rescue day came, he could barely hide his eagerness to leave. Of course, he didn’t have to, since it was no secret that he couldn’t stand another minute in the Dursleys’ house. What was, however, a secret was that – subconsciously than consciously – one of the motives for his eagerness was that know he felt closer to the moment he’d be able to meet Draco, maybe confront him.

Of course he knew that leaving the Dursleys’ meant nothing as to that, since he’d be nowhere near the Malfoys – and thanks god to that, too, he still hated all of them – but it was like being a step closer. Like leaving the muggles’ house and going to enter, once again, the wizarding world made him be in the same plane as Draco, at least in the slightest, closer to him.

*

Harry’s heart jumped in his chest at the sight of him. Hurrying up the street alone. He felt his heartbeat rise at the realization that the moment he so anxiously awaited might have arrived. He tried to calm his heart, though, and convince himself his heart wasn’t beating fast because of Malfoy. Of course, Harry wasn’t happy to see Draco.

“Wonder where his mummy is?” Harry said to Ron and Hermione who had seen him too.

Harry, knowing and loathing Malfoy, was sure the reason could not be innocent.

They promptly decided to follow Draco to know what he was up to and while eavesdropping on his conversation with Borgin there were moments in which Harry had to take a deep breath to keep himself from bursting into the store and punching Malfoy in the face. He didn’t quite got exactly where the rage came from, he couldn’t put his finger on exactly what solid motive did Draco give him to make him want to attack him at that moment, but he simple felt like he had plenty of reasons already. He just knew Malfoy was getting deeper and deeper in involvement with Dark Arts and evil plans, he could sense Draco following in his father’s steps, and gladly doing so.

For all that, and many other things Malfoy had done, Harry wanted to punch him. As if in doing so he’d be punishing Malfoy in advance for all the horrible things he was to be taking part of, and almost as if in doing so he could somehow prevent Malfoy from taking part those things.

Harry, however, took more deep breaths, controlled himself, and listened on.

*

The conversation he, Ron and Hermione heard between Draco and Borgin was the beginning of the proof that Malfoy was involved in Dark Arts, but it wasn’t quite that yet, so he needed to have the confession so that the rage he’d been nurturing towards Malfoy could be explained. He need a confession from Malfoy to explain his urge to punch Malfoy in the face to make it clear that that was the only reason for him to even be thinking about Malfoy in the first place, not something else.

He was determined to find out more; that’s why, in the Hogwarts Express, when he sensed an opportunity, he couldn’t waste it.

*

Draco had been feeling good about the news. It felt like a little compensation in the midst of everything, of all the unpleasantness that was going on in his life, with his father and all.

If only Potter knew. Draco would love to see Potter’s face knowing Draco was starting brilliantly his way to a successful career of admiration.

When he noticed something strange in the train compartment, thought he saw a foot, he was sure it was Potter. Or one of his stupid friends, which would serve the same purpose, since they couldn’t keep their mouths shut between the three of them. So Draco decided he’d allow himself to brag a little.

*

And there he was, the great Harry Potter, not looking great at all. Sprawled on the train floor, petrified. At Draco’s mercy. He wanted to shove it in his face, shove it all in his face, all the glory he’d achieve, the validation, the admiration. He wanted Potter to see all that. To feel as powerless before Draco as he was just right now, incapable of moving.

He shoved his feet on the boy’s face, felt the impact with his nose and heard the sound of the bone breaking. Draco tried to convince himself Harry deserved it, as he covered Harry’s body with the invisibility cloak, closed the door of the compartment and left the train.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry follows Draco out of Sloghorn's Christmas party and hears his conversation with Snape;  
> Draco sees Harry and goes to confront him.

Harry never thought he say, or think, that, but he was glad that the more advanced your year in Hogwarts, the more homework and study related things you had, because now, in his 6th year, his mind was too busy being occupied with homework to think about Draco.

Of course the subject popped up in his mind every once in a while, and many a time he deliberately pursued it, but many times he could use the amount of study he had to do to distract himself from the topic. Mainly because most of the times when he started thinking about the suspicious way in which Draco was behaving, he’d start thinking about Draco himself, and Harry wasn’t keen on giving much space for those thoughts because they always brought that eternal inquiry. _“How do I feel about him?”_

That was, of course, total nonsense. After all, what WAS THERE to feel?

So the weeks went on, Harry determined not to let this insane idea – whatever that idea was – get any of his waking thoughts kept pushing it aside.

Until Professor Sloghorn’s Christmas party.

The good side of Malfoy’s suspicious behavior was that he was gone most of the time, nowhere to be seen. Harry would have wished that a lot earlier if he knew that was a possibility – having to encounter Malfoy in the hallways had been Harry’s and his friend’s biggest unhappiness at Hogwarts since year one. Malfoy’s absence had become such that when Harry saw him, being dragged by Filch, in Sloghorn’s office it felt like he hadn’t seen him in a long time. Thay brought back all of his obsession for Draco Malfoy. Once again there he was, acting suspicious. And this time Harry couldn’t not pursue this investigation. So when Snape took Malfoy away, Harry had to follow. He had to.

Harry took his invisibility cloak, followed the two and listened to their conversation with his ear pressed against the door. Malfoy’s steps toward the door took him by surprise, so he had to move away hurriedly. In his surprise and haste Harry instinctively ran to hide around the nearest corner, forgetting he didn’t need to, since he had his invisibility cloak.

Already in the corner, he decided he couldn’t be too careful and just stayed there. He could hear them from this spot and it was strangely dark here, so they wouldn’t be able to see some accidental ankle that might escape the cloak. He pressed his back against the wall and heard as Draco’s steps drew farther away, then he peeked to check and saw that Snape was, too, moving back to the party. Harry turned to his position pressing his back against the wall and tried to make sense of what he’d heard. Somethings were clear enough, some were confirmations of what Harry already suspected, some would need some deliberations with Ron and Hermione.

Lost in his thoughts, Harry didn’t hear the steps drawing nearer. Harry only didn’t scream because his reaction was to freeze, such was his fright when he heard Draco’s voice saying, “I know you’re here, Potter. You better take care of those little pretty feet when you’re covered in that cloak.” Harry realized he had his breathing held as he saw Draco’s outline coming to the dark hallway where he was. “Too afraid to come out, Potter? You’re only brave sneaking around the corner, aren’t you?”

Why was Harry hiding? And from _Malfoy_. What was Malfoy gonna do? Harry took off his cloak. “You could teach me a thing or two about sneaking around.” That made Malfoy shudder with fright, too, since he had his back turned to Harry when Harry began to speak.

“What are you talking about? I’m not sneaking around eavesdropping in you and your friends, am I?”

 _He didn’t insult them,_ Harry thought, _that’s weird._

“In fact,” Draco continued, “I’m staying very far away from you idiots.” _There you go,_ Harry thought. “So how about you do the same, huh?”

“What’re you up to, Malfoy? What’re you planning?”

“That’s none of your business, Potter,” Draco said raising his voice, but still trying not to make much noise, so he spoke in a half-shout, “stay out of it.” He finished coming close to Harry and pushing him on the chest.

“What’re you preparing for you Oh So Holy Master, huh? Little dear master Voldemort giving you homework now, is he?”

“That is. None. Of your. Business.” He pushed Harry again, harder this time. “I have things to do, important things. You wouldn’t understand. I bet _your_ Oh So Holy Master Dumbledore doesn’t let you in on anything _important_ , does he? So fuck off, Potter. And go on doing whatever silly unimportant things you do in your miserable life.” Then looking at nowhere in particular, Draco lowered his voice to a mutter, giving away that he was now more speaking out of his reflections than trying to get to Harry, “You can just do whatever you want. You’ll always be the hero in the end anyway. Just do whatever you want, since you can and no one gives a shit.”

Harry was taken a little aback by that last part. Before he knew he was surprised to be speaking, but he was surprised less for being speaking and more for realizing that he had somehow pushed aside his hatred for Malfoy and was speaking from a place he didn’t like to admit he had deep down – a place of pity for Malfoy. One thing that the conversation he heard had suggested, and that Harry had deliberately ignored, was that Draco wasn’t happy doing whatever he was doing, like he was being forced. So, thinking about this, Harry said in an equal mutter, “You can, too, you know. You don’t need to do anything you don’t want to.”

Harry hadn’t expected that to backfire the way that it did. Draco lifted his gaze from the ground and locked it in Harry’s eyes with such rage that Harry stepped back and touched his back against the wall. Draco walked toward Harry manically, grabbed Harry’s shirt. Harry was now actually scared.

“Fuck. You. Potter. You think you know everything, don’t you. It’s so easy for you.” He was once again speaking in a half-shout, but this time through his teeth. “FUCK. YOU. I can’t do ANYTHING. I HAVE to do what I’m told, and I can’t do anything of what I really want. Do you have any idea what that’s like?”

Harry was getting very scared. The way Draco was speaking was just MANIC. Harry dropped totally any idea of clapping back, lest he cause even more rage in Draco and he became more violent and even dangerous. So Harry tried something he didn’t remember ever trying in his life – a diplomatic approach.

“Wh… what… Draco, what are you saying? You–” He was cut short for Draco tightened his grip in Harry’s shirt, pulled him one inch away from the wall just to push him back against it violently.

“I can’t DO. What I WANT. To DO.”

This was not going well. Harry didn’t know what to do or say to help appease Draco, and he was afraid to say or do the wrong thing and make Draco shout and attract attention to them. “Wh… what do you want to do, then?” Harry almost shouted, but controlled himself to make it go out in a reasonable tone. It came out a bit choked. But it didn’t matter because none of them paid it attention to it when Draco did what he did next.

After Harry spoke, there was no more than a half second of hesitation in Draco’s eyes before he made forward and kissed Harry. Their lips were locked for a few second, and then they parted. Harry had an astonished face. Draco, too, had an expression of surprise, but mixed with fear. He grimaced a bit, as if waiting for Harry’s hand to fly in a punch right at his nose. Draco flinched when the movement came, but Harry’s hand flew to the back of Draco’s head and pulled it closer to his own head and then they were kissing again, in utter and entire passion. Draco put his hand on Harry’s waist and pulled their bodies together. Harry moved inches away from the wall, just enough for Draco to wrap his hand around him. They rolled to the side, now Draco had his back again the wall, and it was Harry’s chest was pressing against Draco’s while his hand never left Draco’s head and the other was grabbing Draco’s waist.

They were lucky the people approaching talked, because in the middle of all that they would never have heard their footsteps. It was Professors McGonagall and Snape and Filch. Harry and Draco parted for half a second, which was the time Harry took to get his cloak from the ground, and then were embraced again, this time not kissing, but listening attentively. For what they could understand, there had been a lot of gatecrashers, or at least attempts at gatecrashing. Also, someone played some prank with one of Fred and George’s inventions. Harry and Draco saw smoke coming out of Sloghorn’s office when the door was opened and people got out holding their noses shut and complaining about some awful smell. So they could understand clearly that the party was over and everyone was heading to their House towers.

“We can’t go through there,” said Draco in a tone that seemed unaware that they were fighting just moments ago, signaling at the crowded corridor. they wouldn’t be able not to bump into someone, and they couldn’t take out the cloak because then they’d reveal they were wandering in the hallways

“Come. This way,” said Harry nodding to the dark hallway in the opposite direction.

They didn’t know why so much of the castle was so dark, but whatever the reason they instinctively tried to find their way back to the torch lit hallways. When they finally did, they were closer to Gryffindor tower than the dungeons, where the entrance to Slytherin common room was.

Draco started to lift his arm to get out of the cloak when Harry said, “Okay, c’mon” and started walking toward the fastest way to the dungeons.

“What?” Draco whispered. “Why are you coming with me? Slytherin common room won’t have you, Potter.” The antipathy was back in his voice in this last sentence.

“I wouldn’t want to go in that shithole even if it did, Malfoy,” Harry snapped back, but continued to go in the direction they were going. “I’ll leave you there then I go to Gryffindor tower,” he said. “Because of the cloak, you idiot,” he explained. “You’d be seen otherwise.”

“What do you care,” Malfoy muttered to himself quietly.

“Shut up,” Harry muttered in response.


	4. Chapter 4

_What just happened?_ Harry thought for the umpteenth time as he crept in to his room, praying that none of his roommates would wake up. They didn’t. They were all fast asleep. _What just happened?_

Harry silently took off his shoes and lied in bed with the clothes he had on, suddenly feeling a huge tiredness come over him that he hadn’t even realized he had. Maybe all the sneaking around had caused it. Not that Harry was unaccustomed to sneaking around Hogwarts, but this time it was sudden and unexpected. And with an even more unexpected company.

Either way, Harry clung to that tiredness as to not think too much about what just happened and fall asleep already. He fell asleep.

*

Only one week later did Harry see Draco for more than two seconds as he passed in a hallway or entered a classroom. That was because Draco was avoiding encountering Harry as much as he could, confused and embarrassed as he was. There was another thing, too. If they encountered in the hallways, when there were other people, Draco would be expected to insult Harry, to verbally attack him, his friends, his family, his friend’s family, his “blood status”, well, just about everything. And the thing was, Draco didn’t feel like it. He didn’t want to do that anymore. He never felt comfortable doing it in the first place. But he did what he was “supposed to do”.

 _Supposed to do,_ Draco thought and chuckled with disgust, _very easy for Father to tell me what I’m “supposed to do”, like he knows what he’s talking about._ Draco had been, for a while, starting to feel like his father didn’t know anything about any of the things over which he acted like he had total control. Over the years this role Draco had been pushed to play felt more and more unfitting. He continued to do so for many reasons. It gave him some sense of knowing his place, a thing that he craved so much deep down, always feeling like he didn’t fit, like he didn’t belong, and worse, like he wasn’t welcome, even inside his own family. So he decided to embrace it, say “fuck it”, he decided to start acting like _he_ didn’t _want_ to be welcomed. That sure granted him some success amidst the Slytherin, his House praised those who had the guts to claim their grandiosity shamelessly. The Slytherin sure despised the prudes and hypocrites who pursued glory only to, having attained it, act like they never wanted it.

On top of all that, once Draco had started playing that role he didn’t have much of a choice, did he? Once he starts he got caught in the role and if he just stopped insulting the famous Harry Potter people would find it odd, and that could risk the whole thing falling apart, his father “guidance”, so to speak, even his relation with his family, which wasn’t the healthiest.

And did Draco want to stop insulting Potter? Were the insults empty of meaning? Only there because Draco was playing a role? No. They weren’t. Draco hated Potter, that he did. When he looked at Potter he really wanted to scream at him, and call him names, and see the glee fall from his face, and ruin his day. The way that the thoughts of Harry ruined Draco’s days.

Since year one, Draco felt that there was something special about that boy. When the years passed he grew to understand the essence of the attraction Draco felt for Harry, and he hated it. He hated to be feeling it, he hated that Harry would never feel it back. So he hated Potter.

But now he was tired. He didn’t want to go on with all that. It was tiring – exhausting – and nonsensical. So he avoided Harry at all costs. Until he was surprised as he turned a corner in an empty hallway and bumped into someone.

Harry’s face went quickly from the surprise running into someone to loathing as he saw who he had ran into. Too late, Draco realized he had been staring at Harry’s face.

“What is it, Malfoy?” Harry asked expecting, Draco realized, to receive insults.

Draco took a moment to find his voice. “Sorry. Excuse me.” He said finally, grabbing the books he was holding more tightly and starting to go on his way, looking down.

“I’m sorry.” Harry said before Draco could walk away.

Draco stopped. They were both standing still in the middle of a hallway. Draco realized that that was an opportunity he probably wouldn’t have again, to have Harry alone. “C… Can we talk?” He asked speaking fast.

Harry’s expression was one of trying to make sense of this strange dialogue. Then it changed to cold resolution, like he was fixing the details of a study group meeting. “Third floor hallway, right before lunch.” The third floor was used for boring like storage or whatever, Draco wasn’t sure, actually, so there never was anyone there, there because there wasn’t much to do there. Actually, the only time it had students going in there was when they had been prohibited of going in there, and that only for the sake of breaking the rules.

Draco nodded vigorously. “Yeah. Ok.”

*

Draco got to the third floor hallway half an hour before lunch unsure if Harry would show up. When fifteen minutes passed without sign of Harry, Draco started to be sure he wouldn’t, but for some reason, he stayed and waited on. When it was five minutes before lunchtime Draco chuckled bitterly to himself at how pathetic he was for being there and turned to leave. He had just gotten up from the corner where he was sitting on the ground when the door opened and Harry stepped through.

“Hello?” Harry called, since it was dark. As it turns out, the enchantment that makes the candles light up when there’s movement close also makes them go out when there’s quietude for a while, and after some minutes Draco had grown quite fond of the darkness and extinguished the fires with a wave of his wand whenever some lit up due to some movement he made.

“Over here,” Draco answered and stepped away from the wall, making a couple of candles light up, whose fire he didn’t extinguish this time. “So…” he started, not having a clue what to say, since he didn’t know where this was meant to go, or even why they were even meeting in the first place. Harry had seen him and was walking to where he was. “What’s–” _up?_ He would’ve finished but Harry had gotten to him and started kissing him. An intense, almost… aggressive, kiss.

Harry, with his hands on Draco’s hips, started to push Draco softly for them to move toward the wall, never parting from their embrace. They tripped on each other’s feet, lost balance and fell. Smiling at their silliness, kept on kissing like their lives depended on it. In fact, Harry only ever stopped kissing Draco’s mouth when he was busy kissing Draco’s neck, or ear. Harry kissed Draco’s neck on a couple of spots, then sucked on his skin and left a small hickey.

Harry, who was on top, had his left hand planted on the ground and with his right pulled Draco’s robes open and put his hands under Draco’s shirt. Draco at first shivered at the cold of Harry’s fingers, but their temperature quickly leveled and Draco enjoyed the touch of Harry’s hand on the bare skin of his hip and ribs and chest and back to the hip.

Draco took a page out of Harry’s book and put his own hands under Harry’s shirt.

 _Wow,_ Draco couldn’t help thinking as he felt Harry’s body. Harry was no super athletic jock, of course, but still. _You got pecs, Potter._ Quidditch does have its physical tolls, after all.

“What’re you doing?” Harry asked, actually seeming amused, making Draco realize he’d been distractedly laying his hands on Harry’s chest and caressing his nipples.

“Nothing,” said Draco a little embarrassed, moving his hands away.

“Don’t worry,” said Harry, then kissed Draco curtly. “I like it,” he finished, then kissed Draco curtly again and stood up. “I gotta go, or else they’ll notice. C’mon,” he drew his hand to help Draco up.

“Yeah. Yeah, me too,” said Draco grabbing his hand and standing up too.

“We can’t go at the same time, go first.”

“Okay.” Draco made for the door. He was a little disconcerted by the abruptness with which things were happening. _But what else did I expect, really?,_ he thought. Again, not sure where things were meant to lead to, therefore, unable to feel properly unsatisfied with the way things were going thus far. He had walked a couple of steps toward the door when it occurred to him that he was lucky that the robes covered up the volume that jumped out of his trousers. At that thought he stopped, turned around, made for where Harry was standing and unceremoniously grabbed Harry’s crotch. He didn’t know what he expected, but couldn’t help feeling a little disappointed that it wasn’t hard. “See ya,” he added casually, made for the door once again and left.

*

They started meeting every day at the same time in the same place after that. In the third day of that, as Draco was walking away to the door Harry said, “Hey. Nobody can know, right?” It was the first time Harry had started a conversation.

“Right,” turning to face him Draco answered like that was an obligation. Of course he understood why Harry would say that and Draco himself wouldn’t want anyone to know either… right? No, he wouldn’t. He couldn’t deal with it, it would be too messed up.

“You understand why that is, right?” Harry was actually _afraid_ of what would happen if his friends knew about this. He wouldn’t know how to begin to explain, since he didn’t know it _himself_.

“I know,” answered Draco. “I can’t have people know about this any more than you do. Maybe even more.” The last sentence was no more than a mutter.

“What do you mean?” Harry frowned.

“Nevermind. It’s just…” Draco’s words trailed off. “My Dad and all.” He concluded.

“Whew, yeah, that would be tough.” The air seemed to become heavier at the silence that followed so to try and change the subject Harry said matter-of-factly, “Well, anyway. Never thought I’d say that, but sucks that you’re not a Gryffindor. I could really use a mattress. Not that much comfort on the ground, is there?”

That actually gave Draco an idea. So in the next day in the morning Draco wrote a message to Harry through their way of communication. It was a two-way piece of parchment in which everything that was written in one piece would appear in the other. They actually had Hermione to thank for that, since Harry got the idea from remembering what she had done with some coins in some club they held the previous year, Harry would get too much into what that club was about, or into anything, for that matter. Potter just wasn’t much of a talker. Well, not with Draco, it seemed.

Draco waited for all of his roommates to leave the room before scribbling “ _Not as usual today, meet me at Barnabas the Barmy one hour after curfew_ ” and then waited staring intently at the parchment until he saw the sign that the message had been received. Soon a line appeared crossing the words and Draco waved his wand to wipe the ink out of the parchment.

*

“What are you doing?” Whispered Harry as he arrived at the meeting place and found Malfoy there waiting for him. “Why here?”

“You’ll see. C’mon,” said Draco and nodded toward the already door to the Room of Requirement that was already materialized. They entered the Unknowable Room and Draco led the way, clearly having been there a million times, since he not once hesitated in which way to go amidst the total mess of the place.

Finally, they stopped in front of a huge wardrobe. Draco opened its door. “C’mon.”

“In there?” asked Harry.

“C’mon, you’ll see,” said Draco simply. “Hurry,” he added as Harry was still standing in place. Finally, Harry conceded, always untrusting, and followed. Once they were in, Draco closed the door and muttered some words harry could not understand, then opened the door and they were in a dark room, different from the dark Unknowable Room.

“Where the fuck…” Harry’s voice trailed away.

“Shh,” said Draco. “We’re in my house’s basement, come this way to my…”

“What the _fuck_ are we doing _in your house?_ ” Harry asked, whispering, but still startled.

“ _Shhhh_ ,” Draco repeated more emphatically. “Just shut the fuck up, will you? You’ll see in a moment. Now hush and not a peep until we get there.” And without another word he started walking away, Harry hurried to follow. The last thing he wanted was to be left alone in the Malfoy’s house.

They sneaked their way from the basement to Draco’s room, Harry was so focused on not making any noise, which mostly consisted of paying attention to where he was stepping so not to trip on anything, while not losing sight of Malfoy he barely looked around. The only thing he noticed about the house in the few furtive glances he threw was that its decoration was mostly dark tones, that it was filled with ancient furniture and that it was _big_.

When they finally arrived in Draco’s room, Draco as careful as if he was disarming a bomb closed the door and put an imperturbable spell on it. Only then he spoke and in a normal tone. “Okay. So as to your question. You said you could use a mattress,” he explained pointing casually at his bed. Only then did Harry look away from the door and looked around the room. It was big, of course, also decorated in dark tones, and had a massive window through which entered moonlight. Harry looked at Malfoy, remembered his pointing arm at the bed, looked at it, then back at Malfoy. He breathed out a laugh.

“I say I could use a bedroom, then you bring me all the way _to you house_ just so we can have one.” He laughed. “You’re crazy.”

Draco felt glad that at that moment that it was dark, except for the moonlight, so Harry couldn’t see his face was red. He felt like an idiot doing all that, and above all, pathetic. Harry hadn’t like that idea.

“That is amazing,” said Harry. Draco’s heart jumped in his chest at these words and made his face go even redder than feeling pathetic had. In the moment that followed, Draco was glad Harry wasn’t much of a talker, because when Draco was beginning to struggle to find word to speak next, he stopped needing them, because Harry was already at him, kissing him passionately.

This time, Harry didn’t have that aggressive manner he usually had, but something that startled Draco even more – determination, and Draco noticed to his delight that his was not the only boner. Draco felt that Harry already had it traced out in his mind where that was going, wherever that was, and Draco began to have an idea when Harry put his hands under Draco’s shirt, but not to caress his bare skin, but to take the shirt off. As soon as Draco’s shirt was off his body, Harry’s hands were working on unfastening his belt, and letting his pants fall. Then Harry’s hands glided on Draco’s lower back, going ever lower, until they slid under Draco’s underwear and grabbed his butt cheeks tightly while pushing Draco’s body harder against his own and never parting their lips.

Before Harry could go any further, Draco made a sound to sign him to stop and said, “Your turn.”

“Fair enough,” Harry started to take off his own clothes as Draco laid on the bed and took off his underwear. Harry finished taking his own underwear off and jump on top of Draco.

After a couple of some solid minutes of making out, Harry reach for his clothes on the floor and took a condom out of one of his pockets.

“Where’d you even get–” Draco started but was interrupted by the surprise of Harry strength as he turned Draco’s body around. Draco complied and laid face down, waited a few second that he supposed were dedicated to the adjustment of the condom and then felt Harry’s body touch his again.

*

“Oh, no. Already?” Draco complained. It was past the mark of 2:40am.

“Yes,” said Harry for the millionth time. “I have to, you know that.”

“Can’t we stay…” _until morning?_ Draco wanted to say, but he knew better; “for just a little longer?” he finished.

“No, Malfoy, I can’t.” Harry was getting impatient, Draco could notice, not only from his voice, but from the way he grabbed his pants as he pulled them up. “No, show me to the basement, or I’ll just find it myself, that is, if I don’t get lost in this place… And you should be going, too, by the way,” he added.

“Yeah, alright,” moaned Draco in complaint. Of course he knew they couldn’t stay until morning it’d be too risky, it would be asking for someone in Hogwarts to catch them in the act coming back to their dorms. It was just that the idea of staying there seemed nice, and the fact that Draco’s parents weren’t home made it all the more seductive. But he got out of bed in the end and got dressed, too. “So where did you get the condom, anyways?” Draco said trying to change the subject. Harry scoffed. It was clear he had no love for small talk, mainly after they were done with their session.

“Fred and George,” Harry said curtly and made for the door.

Draco hurried finished putting his left shoe, said “Wait,” and followed.

Minutes later, they were back in Hogwarts, Harry muttered some hurried “See you,” that Draco almost didn’t catch and left the Room of Requirement in his Invisibility Cloak, leaving Draco to sneak around corner all the way to the dungeons and into Slytherin common room.

 _Phew, so that happened._ Was the thought in Draco’s mind as he lied in bed.

As to Harry, when he got to his room and finally breathed in relief that nothing went wrong in the way to his bed, he didn’t have the usual “What just happened?” thought in his mind. At that point he knew well enough what had happened, and what had been happening. So as he lied in bed, the though on his mind was _What am I doing?_ He tried not to think too much about that as he tried to fall asleep.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco meets Harry, Ron and Hermione in a hallway and plays pretend at picking on them;  
> Harry feels bad about having an affair with Draco who is hated by his friends;  
> Harry and Draco meet in the bathroom...

“We could play pretend,” said Draco one day, some weeks later, in their usual third-floor-corridor-meeting.

“Huh?” was Harry’s answer.

“We could pretend to be insulting each other when we meet in the hallways. Well, at least then we _will_ meet in the hallways. It’s getting tiring to avoid you constantly.”

“You’ve been avoiding me?” Harry asked airily. “Yeah, okay. Let’s do this.”

Later that day they met, as Harry, Ron and Hermione were leaving Potions class.

“Hey, Potter,” Harry heard Malfoy’s voice say and lifted his view from his backpack he’d been rummaging to see Draco standing there in the hallway. “heard you are very good at Potions now, what happened? Finally found your brain?

“Fuck off, Malfoy, I’m not in the mood,” said Harry only half playing pretend.

“Or what? You’re gonna make a potion to get me?” Malfoy mocked, but Harry saw a twinkle in his eyes that signaled to him that that was just what they had agreed to doing. That actually made Harry lighten up a bit, he decided that he could take some fun out of this.

“Apparently some already has. A love potion, because you’ve been obsessed with me for more than five years now. You really can’t go five minutes without thinking about me, now do you?” Malfoy seemed a little taken aback and… hurt by that. Too soon, maybe? Harry thought.

“Yeah, Malfoy, just fuck off,” said Ron.

“Oh little Weasley grew some balls, now? Oh go learn how to fly a broomstick, for Gryffindor Quidditch team’s sake, why don’t you.”

“You talk a lot. Is that the best the Slytherin can do for a Seeker? Jeez, tough times I guess,” said Ron.

Harry was starting to get amused. Internally he was starting to laugh his friends to were taking the bait of these fake provocations. But before his amusement could grow he realized, and just a second before she spoke, too, that Hermione was fuming with rage.

“Just give it a break, for Chrissake!” said Hermione.

“Stay out of this…” said Draco pausing for a fraction of a moment, as if he was trying to pick an appropriate word, “Hermione,” he finished simply. That got Harry’s attention. He had never heard Draco call Hermione by her name. Most of the time he addressed her by insults related to her blood status, and even when he didn’t address her like that, it was by her last name. And with a lot of scorn, of course, never in that… _normal_ tone.

Could it be… that Draco was getting… better? Could it be that the thing that was going on between him and Harry was having good results? Was Malfoy changing as a result or because of Harry?

“Come, Harry, just ignore him,” she said and, grabbing Harry’s arm, took off and banged Malfoy hard on the shoulder with her own, Ron went by Hermione’s side. As Harry passed Draco he saw him mouth “ _Ouch_ ” and shrugged clumsily in response as he was pulled further by Hermione tight grip.

They went to the spot they liked to go to by the tree near the entrance to the castle and sat on the ground, as they usually did. Hermione was still about to explode with rage.

“God, Hermione, what’s up with you?” Harry asked.

“I can’t _stand_ him. Oh my god, I _hate_ the moron!”

Harry had never seen his friend like that. He could tell that she was restraining from using less pleasant words by the way she spoke through gritted teeth.

Seeing Hermione like this really got to Harry. How could he, moments ago, be having a laugh at how Malfoy was egging them on? Malfoy had really _hurt_ his friends. Many times! Over and over again for _years_! How dared Harry to be having a secret affair with their archenemy? And _feeling good_ about it? Thinking that it was having good results! Harry was being pathetic, and stupid, and a jerk. He was betraying his friends, stabbing them on their backs, letting Malfoy insult them and their families for years and now just forgetting all about it and having… relations with him. Harry realized he was so damn selfish. He was disgusted with himself.

*

That had been their last class of the day. Harry mumbled something about not having slept much the last night and wanting to go to his room and take a nap for the rest of the evening. That was just an excuse to be alone. He couldn’t stand himself, so disgusted and ashamed that he was with the dawn of realization of what he’d been doing for the last weeks. He could barely keep a straight face to hide that he was lost in thoughts and dwelling with his shame.

He went to his room but could barely stay put. He wished that taking a nap hadn’t been just an excuse and that he could really fall asleep, but Harry was way too agitated. It soon began to get dark and Harry headed to the great hall in the hopes of having dinner earlier than they used to so that he wouldn’t meet Ron and Hermione there. He just couldn’t bear to look at them, he felt like he’d betrayed them.

His plan worked out, Ron and Hermione were probably still in the library, where they said they were going to when Harry had excused himself earlier. Harry ate hurriedly and strolled around the castle looking for a place to go and to be to pass the time. He didn’t want to go back to his room, he didn’t want to be in an enclosed space, plus, Ron or some of his other roommates would soon turn up there. He went to the top of the astronomy tower and gladly having a vast landscape to look at calmed him more than he thought it would. He stayed there for a while, looking at the sky, watching the treetops sway with the wind, birds eventually flying from some tree into some unknown destiny. He felt calm again, his distress was lessened hugely.

In that moment, Harry allowed himself to be honest with himself. He admitted to himself that he was glad he hadn’t let all that that had happened between him and Draco get too evolved in… certain aspects. At least of his part, there had been no… emotional connection. He didn’t let it happen. In some strange way, he felt that making it be solely a… physical thing, it was somehow not as bad as it would have been if he had allowed that kind of connection to grow.

The affair with Malfoy had been purely physical, even sexual, but that was all. And that somehow made him feel more detached from it. That wasn’t a very healthy way of viewing things, Harry knew, but that was the truth, and that made him feel better. There, he had said it – or rather thought it. Anyway he had admitted to himself and being honest with himself about any of it for a change felt good.

After all, he could not be connected emotionally with Malfoy, could he? Malfoy, who insulted him and his friends tirelessly for over five years. “I never liked doing it, you know?” he once said when they were dressing themselves in Draco’s room. He had that annoying habit of trying to make conversation in those moments when all Harry wanted to do was go away as fast as possible from there. Malfoy could say what he wanted, Harry didn’t believe for a second. The insults and attempts at trying to get Harry expelled felt genuine enough, so unless Malfoy was a great actor, that sounded like bullshit. Harry pretended he hadn’t heard and Malfoy dropped the subject.

Remembering this made Harry’s blood start to boil again.

It was starting to get late and he remembered that he would have inevitably to go back to his room eventually. He lingered at the tower for a while longer but eventually he left; it was less than twenty minutes until curfew. Harry still didn’t make straight to Gryffindor tower, he took some detours, wandered around the castle as time went by. Eventually curfew time was upon him but he decided not to stress about it and if some professor caught him out of his room he’d say he had lost track of time and was already on his way.

Coincidentally, he didn’t run into any professor. He did find himself in the corridor of Myrtle’s bathroom. Harry stopped a little abruptly at the sight of the bathroom door, remembering the last time he was in that situation and what had followed. That precise memory was what drew him to the bathroom once again, making him feel that Draco would be inside. He came close to the door and sure enough, heard Malfoy’s and Myrtle’s voices.

“…totally fucked, aren’t I?” Harry heard Malfoy say. “God, I’m totally fucked.”

“Oh…” said Myrtle, as if trying to find something comforting to say but failing.

Harry did exactly what he did the last time: entered the bathroom silently and stayed hidden behind the stall closest to the door.

“What have I gotten into? I couldn’t help myself,” Malfoy continued, “of course I got attached. GOD! I’m so pathetic. He despises me. I can see it in his face, I can feel it. He won’t even look me in the face, you know? Not even when we’re doing it. He always gets me from behind, always. And what do I do? I get attached to him, more and more. The more Potter _despises_ me the more I hope he’ll grow to like me like I like him,” he paused. “But I…” he began again, “I– AAAH” he bellowed and Harry heard the sound of his fists pounding the sink. “I can’t!” Malfoy said finally. “I can’t! I just can’t! I can’t! I can’t! I CAN’T!” Pounding at the sink again. “Not now, not in the middle of all this,” his tone was that of one showing something that Harry, of course, couldn’t see from where he was. “And I feel it moving from time to time. It’s alive. You know what that means, don’t you? It’ll only get worse. I’ll only be dragged deeper and deeper into their plans. What will my father do if he discovers?”

Malfoy’s father. Lucius Malfoy. That name made Harry’s face grimace with fury. Harry hated that man with all his guts. And yet, he had been sleeping with his son.

Malfoy went on. “My father. One of his favorites, Myrtle. What do you think he’ll do if he knows? He’ll be expected to have an exemplar family. Lucius Malfoy, the great Lucius Malfoy, once the Dark Lord’s favorite. How will he recover his post if his. Own. Son. Betrays. Him,” each of the last words were intercalated with a pounding on the sink.

There. He’d said it himself. Of course, Harry already knew that, but hearing it said from the horse’s mouth, being admitted, hurt even more. Draco Malfoy, son of Lucius Malfoy. Son of a Death Eater. Harry, who hated Voldemort the most of all the people he hated in the world, was sleeping with the son of a Death Eater, the son of someone that works for the monster that killed his parents. Harry didn’t know who he hated the most at that moment, Draco of himself. He made all the effort he could to stay quiet.

Malfoy’s voice was beginning to sound like he was speaking through gritted teeth. “What will he do if just as much as _suspects_ I’m… _fucking_ Potter. Fucking. Harry. Potter. Is fucking. ME,” once again words intercalated with poundings on the sink, except for the last word, which was accompanied by the sound of glass being smashed and falling to the ground.

Harry couldn’t take it anymore.

“Don’t worry, Malfoy,” Harry said leaving his hiding spot, revealing himself, wand in hand, pointed at Malfoy. “You won’t be having the pleasure anymore. STUPEFY.” Out of the tip of his wand toward Malfoy flew the turbulence in the air. Malfoy flinched just in time and the spell hit the few shards of the mirror that still hanged in the frame. Malfoy’s bloody hand grabbed his wand and in a blink of an eye, his wand was sending back a spell at Harry, who ducked and crawled to behind the nearest stall.

Chaos reigned in the place. Spells being thrown at each other, missing and hitting toilet seats, breaking pipes, making water spill all over the place, breaking holes through the wooden walls of the stalls. All missing the targets by inches. Until the final blow.

Harry had only two words in his mind when he bellowed the spell. The two words he had seen in his potions book describing the spell, describing its use. Better said, describing for what kind of situation it was meant to be used in, or yet, for what kind of person. _For enemies._

“SECTUMSEMPRA,” Harry screamed thrusting his arm forward with the want pointing at the spot where he knew Malfoy would be appearing at.

Then there was a feeling of silence. At least, the sounds of water flowing out of the open pipes and onto the poodles on the floor felt like silence compared to the turbulence that was happening moments ago.

Draco’s body was on the floor, from where Harry stood it looked like he had passed out. Harry only noticed the changes when the third red slash appeared, it was in Draco’s chest. Rapidly that third had been followed by a fourth and a fifth. Draco was all drenched in blood.

Harry was frozen in place. He then made one step toward Draco, wide-eyed, trying to figure out what he’d done. Froze again. He turned and ran for the door and almost smashed face first onto Snape. They looked at each other for a moment. Harry still wide eyed and dumbfounded. Snape looked around, saw the body, and rushed towards it, ignoring Harry completely. Harry then once again ran, and only stopped when he had arrived at the entrance to Gryffindor tower.


	6. Chapter 6

The next day, Harry barely said a word. He only spoke to dismiss his the questions his friends made of whether he was okay. They didn’t insist much. The incident of last night had already roamed the hallways and a lot of people knew what had happened. It had that secrecy touch to it, people talked about it in whispers, but the word was spreading. Ron and Hermione knew, too. Harry told them.

Harry was dreading the moment he would see Malfoy. But strangely that moment wasn’t coming. The whole day went by without Harry meeting Draco. They had left their last class of the day and were walking just out of the castle’s front doors, toward their usual spot under the tree. There were many other students around, too.

Harry had his gaze to the ground all the while, watching his own feet move as he walked. His mind was wandering aimlessly, unable to focus. Then a hard push from the back brought him back to reality, he almost fell, but could keep his balance. He got his balance back, turned to see what had happened and saw Draco’s fist hurrying to his face. He had barely understood what was going on when he felt the pain and had his hand holding his bleeding nose. _Second time this year, huh._

Harry considered saying this out loud but the next thing he knew, Malfoy had jump onto him, this time taking him to the ground and falling on top of him. And punching him. Again and again. Ron, somewhat in despair, kicked Malfoy, making him fall to the side, and helped Harry up along with Hermione.

No one said anything during a half second. Everyone was a little too confused to say anything. Harry was panting half bending, one arm on his thigh for support, the other holding his nose. Draco was panting on the ground, putting his elbows beneath him so that he could look at Harry; rage burning in his face. He slowly began to stand up, holding his ribs with a hand, his enraged expression giving place to pain.

“What the _fuck_ , Malfoy,” Hermione broke the silence. “That’s it. Harry, we’re gonna report him, he can’t get out of that one, they’ll _have_ to do something.” Her last word fell short by Harry’s interruption.

“No.”

“What?”

“No, leave it,” Harry said.

“ _What?_ ” said Ron and Hermione together.

“Just forget it. Leave it. And I need some time alone, too. Please.”

“Let me just fix that for you,” said Hermione pointing her wand at Harry’s nose. “Episkey,” she said and Harry’s nose made a _crack_ noise as its bone returned to its correct shape.

At that moment, Malfoy had managed to stand. “Same place,” he said faintly and starting to make back to the castle, bumping hard – or as hard as he could – into Harry’s shoulder.

“What did he mean?” asked Ron.

“I don’t know,” Harry lied.

“What same place?” asked Hermione.

“I don’t know, okay!?” Harry answered in a snap, accidentally rude. “Just let me alone for a while. Please. I need to think.”

His friends reluctantly agreed and went to their spot on the tree, while Harry started to make back to the castle. _Should I go?_ He asked himself every few steps as he walked through Hogwarts corridors and went up Hogwarts staircases. When he realized he was already approaching the third floor corridor the question in his mind changed to, _Am I really going?_

He was. He opened the door and stepped in. As soon as he closed the door and turned he felt a tight grip on his robes and fists pushing his chest back. He hit the door hard, the air left his lungs and he gasped for breath for a second. Then came the punch, on the nose, breaking it again. He felt to the side.

“Hermione is not here anymore to cure you,” Draco said. He then bent over Harry. Punching him hard. Shaking him by his clothes, pulling him only to push him back hard against the ground.

Harry let him. For a moment, he thought, he’d let him.

Draco was sobbing now, his thrusts weren’t as strong anymore, his pushing became more of a spasm as he cried uncontrollably.

 _That’s enough,_ thought Harry and pushed Draco hard to the side so he could get up. He went to where Draco lay and now it was his turn to give a punch in the face. And another. And a third one. He paused, unsure of what to do next. He never saw Draco draw his wand.

“Stupefy!”

Harry flew a few feet and slid a couple more along the corridor. He stayed there. Draco stayed at his spot. For a while, there was stillness and a silence broken only by Draco’s sobs. A tear streamed down Harry’s face, too. Then another and a third and a fourth. And then Harry was sobbing, too.

They both took support on their elbows and faced each other lying on the ground.

“I hate you,” Draco said simply. He had no energy left to scream. “I hate you, you fucking bastard.” His voice cracked in the last sentence.

“Yeah,” was all Harry managed to say. He really didn’t have much more to say. He understood what Draco was saying, he knew what Draco was talking about. Harry having thrown a strong curse like the one he had the night before was reason enough for Draco to hate him, and still Draco wasn’t talking about that. He was talking about how Harry has been treating him that whole time. “You’re no saint either.”

Draco laughed sarcastically at that. “Oh I’m not a saint either, am I? You’re a fucking asshole. You don’t care about anyone, do you?”

“Oh, because you do? You care about people, Malfoy?” Harry raised himself a little more to almost sit. “You dad,” his voice was raising its tone, “is a _fucking. Death Eater._ ” Harry started to scream and Draco quickly threw an Imperturbable Charm on the door. “HE WORKS FOR VOLDEMORT.”

“MY FATHER DOES. I’m not him.”

“But you will be. I’m not fucking blind, Malfoy, I’ve looked at your arm, for fuck’s sake.”

Draco instinctively reached his hand to his forearm, where the tattoo of a skull and a snake danced in his skin.

“Nice and big, right? So you’ll never lose sight of your duty, I guess. How’s that working for you?” Harry said.

Draco kept silent for a while and Harry thought he heard a stifled sob.

“It doesn’t matter anyway. It’s over. We’re over. Whatever it was that we had. It’s over, it’s done,” Harry said, beginning to get up. “You hear me?”

“Oh too bad, cause it was really being a very sweet dream for me. Really a dream to be _fucked_ by you every day and not to get as much as a word. A fucking word. You can paint me as much as a sick bastard as you want, Potter, you’re no different than me.”

“I am, Malfoy. Because I don’t take pride in being your father’s son. And I’d never follow into his steps. You’re a little shit and you’re pathetic and a coward. I think our ways are well past parted. You go be good daddy’s boy, and prepare to be Voldemort’s bitch. At least something you’re good at. I’ll go on fighting for what I believe. And if we meet in a battlefield, don’t fool yourself, you’ll be no different than any other Death Eater for me. And I’ll kill you just the same.” Harry made for the door.

“I don’t…” Draco begin, but stopped talking and just stayed there, on the ground, crying.

Harry opened the door and left.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco and Harry talk.

Weeks passed without Harry and Draco speaking. They tacitly agreed to avoid each other, neither of them wanted to see each other anyway or have to speak with the other, even if in insults. They just wanted to go on their separate ways.

Harry had already almost as good as forgotten about Draco when one day he felt a sweet humming in his backpack. His frown was not because he was confused as to what was the source of the humming, he knew exactly what it was, it had been his idea, after all. When there was a new message in the two way enchanted parchment he and Draco used to communicate, the parchment would produce a soft hum that was felt more than heard. Harry’s frown came from his confusion as to why was Malfoy using the parchment. What did he want? Was he really gonna call Harry for another meeting in the third floor corridor like nothing had happened? He could dream and hope all he wanted, but Harry was not going.

But the parchment would only stop humming when the message was read. Harry didn’t even know why he still had that thing. He would have thrown it away if he had remembered. Now he did remember, but he couldn’t take it out in front of his friends, lest they asked some questions. So he said he needed to go to the bathroom to take it out of his bag and throw it away. Alone in the bathroom, parchment in hand, he might as well read the message.

_I would like you to meet me. One last time._

_To talk._

It didn’t say the time and place because that went without saying. Harry looked at the words for a while. What did Malfoy have to say to him? Sorry? Would Malfoy give him an empty apology? Would he demand one from Harry? Harry didn’t know. He tore the piece of parchment in two and watched the ink vanish, then he crumpled the pieces and threw them in the bin. The enchantment broke when the parchment was destroyed, but just for the sake of the action, he had thrown it away anyway.

*

The hours went by and many times during classes Harry caught himself thinking of the note and the message it brought. And whether he would attend to the meeting.

They left the last class before lunch. Harry said he was going to his dorm before heading to the great hall. Walking alone in the hallways, he realized his feet were automatically leading him to the third floor. He walked on still unsure if he should go…

When he arrived at the door to that hallway he stopped, turned back and went away.

*

Later that day, after their last class of the day, Harry, Hermione and Ron were hanging out in the hallway outside the classroom they had just left. Hermione had to stop to organize all of her stuff in her bag, so they had been standing there, talking. Harry saw some movement with the corner of his eye, he looked and saw someone just around the corner. Malfoy. Right before Harry could turn his face to the other way he saw Malfoy beckoning for him to follow.

Harry didn’t want to go, but he certainly didn’t want Malfoy following him, hiding around corners either. So when Hermione finished enchanting her bag to make it bigger in the inside and could finally close it with all of her books inside, Harry said he needed to go to the bathroom again and that he’d go to his room from there, cause he was tired. Ron and Hermione were getting used to Harry wanting to be alone all the time by now, they didn’t quite understand what was going on with their friend, but they were used to it, so they just shrugged and went without Harry.

Harry headed to the corner where he saw Malfoy. When he turned around it, Malfoy was in the corner across that hallway. As soon he saw Harry he vanished again. Harry was hating that following game and wished it was over soon. It did. When Harry turned that second corner he found himself in an empty hallway, one of those that had one side full of windows that gave you a nice view of the landscape. The lake, the mountains far away, even a little bit of the Forbidden Forest could be seen from there. Draco was standing in the middle of the hallway with his gaze lost somewhere in the landscape. He didn’t turn to look at Harry when he spoke.

“You didn’t come,” Draco said.

“No,” Harry answered simply.

“Why not?”

“Just spill it out what is it that you wanna say to me, Malfoy,” Harry said beginning to get impatient. “I didn’t come cause I didn’t fucking feel like it.” The last words were cut short by Draco’s holding his hand up. Harry was taken aback a little by that, he didn’t expect Draco to have such a bossy attitude. Draco turned finally.

“I just wanted to talk, Harry.” He sounded tired. “Like I said.”

“Well, talk then.”

“I just wanted to tell you that I talked with Dumbledore. I asked him for guidance…”

Harry scoffed.

“I asked Dumbledore for _help_ … Harry,” he added.

“Yeah right, you’ve grown tired of your father’s counseling, have you?”

“ _Yes!_ As a matter of fact, yes. I have. I don’t want to go into that… path. I told Dumbledore everything. What they were making me get into. What they… demanded of me.” Draco faltered a little in finishing the last sentence.

“No need to hesitate, Malfoy, I now about your little tattoo, remember?”

“You know nothing, Potter. Nothing.” They stayed in silence for a moment.

“Why are you telling me this, Draco?” Harry asked and Draco seemed a little surprised to hear his name.

“Oh, you know my name, now, do you?”

“Why are you telling me this?” Harry repeated.

Draco hesitated. “I don’t know. I just wanted you to know.” Again a moment of silence. “He told me to go on doing what they asked me,” Draco went on. “To pretend I’m on their side.”

“And you’re not?”

“No, Harry, I’m not! That what I’m trying to tell you. Dumbledore didn’t make much sense, anyway. He said that I should pretend to go on with they demanded of me and that I should be… where they expected me to be. That everything would go as planned… I don’t understand anything, I don’t know what he meant. And I’m not sure what I have to do, now.”

“And what do you expect me do to about that, Draco? You want us to go back to what we did? You want me to comfort you and say everything is gonna be alright?”

Draco scowled and turned back to looking through the window. “Just… fuck off, Harry.”

“Want a hug, too?” Harry said.

“I don’t want a hug,” Draco muttered, even though if he was truth to himself that was kind of what he wanted. Not from Harry, but from _someone_. That was the loneliest Draco had ever felt in his life. He never had any friends, Crabbe and Goyle were no more than stupid cronies that only followed him around. He never had any love from his parents. Being faithful to his father’s master was the only way he had of feeling like he belonged to… well, _somewhere._ But now he was rejecting that, too. Now he had nowhere to turn. He could only hope Dumbledore would have him and tell him what to do. Maybe if he did something to help he would feel less miserable. “Actually, yeah,” he said turning to Harry again. “I do want a hug? A hug from famous Harry Potter, the good, benevolent Harry Potter. Will you hug me? Will you show that your heart is filled with nothing but love and accept this poor soul? Huh, will you, Potter? Will you show how great you are, how better than me you are?”

“You’re crazy, Malfoy,” Harry said, not understanding what that was all about.

“Yeah, maybe I am.”

“Is that all?”

“Yeah, that is all. You can go away now, if my image is that disgusting to you,” Draco said bitterly.

“And do me a favor and don’t call me again,” Harry said and left.

 _Pathetic,_ Draco thought and he wasn’t sure if he was talking about Harry or himself.

*

Surely, Draco did not try to speak to Harry anymore. Sometimes it was easy, he had nothing more to say to Harry and Harry sure had nothing more to say to him. Not that he ever had anything to say to Draco, anyway. But sometimes it was harder. Sometimes he could barely deny to himself that he wanted to be with Harry again. Sometimes the craving was so strong he convinced himself that being with Harry in those circumstance, being treated like he had been was good enough. And it was a lot of work setting his mind straight again, remembering – almost educating himself to the fact – that it was not. Harry despised him, always had, always will, no matter what Draco did to try and redeem himself. He didn’t understand what was it that went through Harry’s mind to make him be with Draco during that time, but whatever it was, it was gone, and Harry had got back to hating him.

Draco had no choice other than swallow his loneliness, bottle it and put it away. He has no choice other than follow the orders given to him. He went to Dumbledore once more, but the Headmaster was no clearer than he had been the first time, refusing to speak clearly, to give Draco any real information. So Draco kept his act – the only difference is that now Draco thought of it as an act. He wasn’t sure if there was any real difference, since he was doing nothing different. The only real direction Dumbledore had given him was “stay close to Professor Snape, he will aid you” whatever that meant.

In the moment he wasn’t in a very good place with Snape, having fought with him after repeatedly refusing his offers to help him in his mission. To kill Dumbledore. So Snape was working with Dumbledore? Why was he offering to _help_ Draco kill Dumbledore? Draco understood little, and he wasn’t in exactly speaking terms with Snape. But he would come around, he would forget the bickering and ask for explanations. Sometime… Soon.

*

Then came the day at the Astrology Tower. Draco understood nothing. He was the most confused and frightened he’d ever been. Things were getting serious. Dumbledore was about to be killed. Draco couldn’t see how Snape was going to save the Headmaster, if they didn’t do something soon the Death Eaters would arrive and make sure the deed was done. All Professor Snape told Draco when he went for him was to trust him. Dumbledore being mysterious was no surprise, but Draco wasn’t expecting the same from Snape. Trust him. Trust them.

 _What else can I do?_ Draco asked himself. He had to concentrate a lot at time to not feel like when he had for the first time in his life done the right thing and offered his help for the right side, his help had been declined. It was like Dumbledore didn’t need him, had no plans for him. So he might as well go and join the Death Eaters, really join them, at heart and mind. He had had these thoughts when talking with Dumbledore the second time. _“Draco, don’t think your assistance is being rejected.”_ Dumbledore had said to him. Could the old man be reading his mind? _“I makes me very happy to see you have made the right choice. But I’m afraid things are already in motion at this point, and all will happen as planned. For better or worse. Play your part and stay close to Professor Snap. When the time comes, he will help you understand.”_

When the time comes. Was this the time?

Draco did as Dumbledore told him and played his part. He was there pointing his wand at the Headmaster, but he couldn’t do it. Then Professor Snape came. Everything happened really fast. A moment later Dumbledore was falling from the Astrology Tower, pushed by a green lightning.

*

_Did Harry know it?_ Draco thought in bed in many nights. Still thinking about Harry made him feel pathetic. _Did Harry know it?_

_Did Harry know it?_

_Did Harry know it?_

_Did Harry know it?_

_Does he blame me?_

*

_Did Draco know it?_ Harry got himself thinking one night. He clearly wasn’t gonna be able to go through his mission of killing Dumbledore. He had lowered his wand. He gave up, he wasn’t gonna do it. Did he know Snape was coming to make up for his failure? _He did refuse Snape’s help that day after Sloghorn’s party…_ The only thing Harry knew for certain was that Draco wasn’t going through with it. He had been forced to put up with the mission and still couldn’t do it when the time came. _“To pretend I’m on their side,”_ Harry heard Draco’s voice in his mind. _“And you’re not?”_ he heard himself ask. _“No, Harry, I’m not! That what I’m trying to tell you.”_ So Draco had really switched sides, had he?

Harry didn’t want to allow himself to get on thinking about Malfoy, he should forget Draco. But before he could turn his thought to some other thing, one last thought broke into his mind, even startling Harry, who didn’t know where that had come from. _Does Draco think I blame him?_


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry tells Ron and Hermione about what happened between him and Draco.

They didn’t talk in the days that followed. Harry’s mind was busy thinking about everything that happened. Dumbledore was dead. He could not believe it. He was always waiting for Dumbledore to appear and explain that his death was faked for some reason. He could not believe Dumbledore was gone. Last year he lost Sirius. Now Dumbledore. Would Harry loose everyone for whom he cared? Everyone that cared for him? He couldn’t help making a list of the people that cared about him. Hermione and Ron were to first to pop up, followed by Ron’s family. Mrs. Weasley, who said he was as good as a son for her, Mr. Weasley, Ginny, Fred and George. Professor Lupin came up, too.

Did Draco care about him? He seemed to. Harry was the one that strove to keep any emotional bond away from their relationship. Was he right in doing so? He thought so. He didn’t want things to get more complicated than they already were and that seemed the best decision he’d made, seen that now things were the most complicated they’d ever gotten.

Harry couldn’t help but feel like maybe it wasn’t all right of him to have acted the way he did with Draco. He had to admit to himself that one of the reasons he did so was because it was easier not to be honest. Draco had been honest since the beginning. It didn’t seem fair. _I wasn’t fair,_ Harry thought. But what was done was done and all was for the best. Now Harry had a huge thing in front of him and he couldn’t have anything holding him back. It was a good thing that the thing with Draco had ended because now Harry wasn’t going to go back to Hogwarts anymore. He had already decided that. He had already told his friends, they had already decided to go with him. It was settled.

That was why Harry decided to tell his friends what happened between him and Draco. It was the last thing he needed to do to make this a closed chapter in his life and let it go.

So on the last day in Hogwarts, when Harry, Ron and Hermione were on top of the astrology tower talking about what the future held for them, Harry knew that was the moment.

He was afraid. What would they say? What would they do?

“Hey, guys?” Harry said unsure of himself. “Um, there’s something I need to tell you.”

“You’re not convincing us to give up on going with you, Harry,” said Hermione. “I thought that was settled.”

“Yeah, mate, just give up on trying to make us give up,” Ron said and he and Hermione laughed a little.

“No, it’s not that. I’m glad you’re coming with me. It’s just… it’s…” Harry inhaled deeply. Exhaled. “It’s something that… happened. I want you to know that because I want to be honest. With you and with myself. And I want that to stay in the past. So I’ll tell you and there’ll be no secrets between us.”

“Now you’re scaring me,” Ron said. “What is it? Spit it out already.”

“I… Me and…” Another deep breath. “Me and Draco, we…” Harry’s voice trailed off.

“What? You fought? What a surprise,” Ron mused.

Hermione on the other hand, had a worried expression. “Harry, what is it?”

“Draco and I, we… we got… together.”

There was a moment of silence.

“ _What?_ ” said both Ron and Hermione.

Harry looked at his feet.

“Harry, what’re you saying?” asked Ron.

“We got together,” Harry repeated. He felt his cheeks reddening, he kept on looking at his feet. He couldn’t dare look at his friends. For the third – and last, he decided – Harry took a deep breath. He spoke in quiet resolution, determined to get this over with. “I don’t know how it happened. It began in the night of Sloghorn’s Christmas party. We were arguing and it just… happened. I don’t know what was it, but I felt like it had always been there, you know?”

“So you’ve always fancied him, is that what you’re saying?” Hermione asked. Her tone was angry and that made Harry look at her.

“No. No, I…” Harry began.

“You’ve fancied Draco Malfoy? _Draco Malfoy._ The person that lived to insult us and make our lives hell.”

Harry opened his mouth trying to answer, but found no words.

“Harry, he called me a mudblood!”

“He didn’t mean it!” Harry blurted out before he could stop himself. It was true, Draco had once brought this up in one of the times they went to his bedroom through the wardrobe.

“Oh, he didn’t mean to? So who forced him to speak then?”

“Hermione, it’s not like that, it’s… complicated. His dad…”

“Yes, I guess it’s complicated, because I can’t understand. Harry, how could you be with him, he hates us. He hates you. He insults you and your family all the time. Your parents, too. He tried to get you expelled. What about that, huh? You’re okay with that?” Hermione said. Ron was quiet all this while.

“No, I… I don’t know,” was all Harry could say. That did not go as he planned. Hermione was right, though. How could Harry be with Draco knowing all these things. But still… he knew Draco hadn’t meant those things he said. He talked about it, his father… At least Draco _tried_ to talk about it. Harry wouldn’t give him a chance, would he? “Look, I know this is a lot. I know he said some horrible things to you, Hermione. But it’s more complicated than that. He told me things about how his father would make him. His father told he had to be like this. But he doesn’t want to. He said he won’t do it anymore. And still, the point is that it’s over. I ended it. I knew that couldn’t go any longer so I ended it.”

“I don’t know, Harry, I think I need some time to think about it,” said Hermione and left.

Harry sighed. He couldn’t blame her for not taking it very well. He sat down on the dais there was in one corner of the room. Ron sat by his side.

“Are you alright?” Ron asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Aren’t you going to storm off, too?”

“Nah, dinner is not for a while yet so they won’t let me in the Great Hall, I don’t have anywhere to go right now,” said Ron and laughed a little and then stopped at Harry’s silence and cleared his throat.

With a delay, Harry processed the silliness of the joke and the silliness of Ron’s attempt to lighten the mood and laughed. Ron laughed too. Harry felt so glad he had Ron in his life. No matter what, Ron was always trying to make Harry feel better.

Harry said nothing, just threw his arms around his friend’s body and hugged him tight.

“Ok, buddy, I need to breathe,” said Ron with a suffocated voice. Harry let go.

“Sorry,” he said smiling. Harry lied down on his side, with his head on Ron’s lap and looked at the evening sky out the balcony. “I lied, I’m not alright. I feel like shit.”

Ron chuckled. “Why is that? Because you dated our worst enemy or because you almost killed me with a bear hug?”

Harry smiled but was serious when he spoke. “Draco was not the best person with us, I know. But, Ron, I was definitely not the best person with him.” Harry sat again and looked at Ron. “I think I have fancied him. Since… a while. But I never allowed this feeling to grow. For obvious reasons. But then when it happened… I should’ve let it. He did. Ron, I did not treat him very well…”

“It happens, mate.”

“But it shouldn’t have. I never let him speak.” Harry was looking at the horizon again. “Because I didn’t want us to get emotionally attached or anything.”

“That’s fair, I guess.”

“Yeah, but I did it for the wrong reasons.”

“What do you mean?” Ron asked.

“Ron, I’ve pictured myself with other people I fancied. With… girls I fancied. It was never like that. It was… very emotional. But not with him.”

“I guess you didn’t want to grow emotionally attached to the person that has been your enemy since first year,” Ron suggested.

“But it wasn’t only that. It was something else. It was…” Harry stopped himself.

“You don’t need to tell me if you don’t want to, you know.”

“No, I want to. I didn’t want it with him because, he’s a boy. I’m not proud of it. But I can’t lie to myself anymore. I didn’t want to be seen, or to see myself, like that with another guy. You know?”

“Oh,” said Ron.

“Yeah. Oh,” said Harry.

“Well, you’re doing a pretty good job talking about it now,” Ron said.

“It’s different. I know I can talk to you. You’re my best friends. It’s no surprise to talk about these things with you. But it’s still difficult sometimes to be frank with myself about some things, you know?”

“I do,” Ron said. “Hey,” he called and Harry looked at him. “I really do. I get it. It happened with me, too. You know, that time when Dean and I got together. I kinda felt that, too. Not as much I guess, but still. And it’s nice that you’re talking about it. It’s nice for me to hear it, too.”

“Thanks,” Harry murmured.

“No problem,” Ron answered and bumped on Harry’s shoulder with his own. They laughed.

*

They found Hermione in Gryffindor’s common room after dinner that day.

“I’ll be in the room,” Ron said.

Harry went to where Hermione was sitting, in one corner, and sat next to her. There was only a couple of other people in the common room and they were all the way across, so they had privacy to talk.

“I’m sorry I left,” Hermione said.

“No! No, it’s okay. Really. _I’m_ sorry. I really am. I understand that you’re upset.”

There was a half second of silence.

“Harry…”

“Yes?”

“Do you fancy him?”

Harry didn’t answer straight away. But his hesitation wasn’t for not being sure. He knew the answer to that now.

“I thing I do.”

“How? I want to understand, I really do.”

“I don’t know. I just do. I don’t understand it either. I think I’ve always felt that the way he acted wasn’t genuine, too.”

“So you believe him? About him not meaning those things.”

“Yes, I do. You should see the way he was when he talked about his father. Not that I saw much, I didn’t let him speak much. I never did. I was afraid to get too into… into whatever that was. But he brought the subject one day. He was– He sounded _ashamed_. I really felt for him. Oh don’t roll your eyes,” Harry added, but he was laughing. Hermione giggled too. “But seriously. I have a really hard time missing my parents. And I do because they give me strength. I aspire to be like them. And sometimes I think… how is it to not have your parents as role models. You know? What if you have your parents, but they are the reason you despise yourself. Isn’t that way worse? Isn’t he having a harder time than I am?”

“I don’t know, Harry. Maybe you’re right.”

“Maybe.”

“And he actually asked me to say sorry to you, now that I come to think of it,” Harry said as if he just remembered it.

“What do you mean?”

“One time he said he wish he could tell you ‘I’m sorry’, but he couldn’t because we had to pretend to still hate each other and all that. And he said ‘I wish you could tell her that, maybe one day if we get to tell them about us,’ something like that.” Harry groaned slightly.

“What? What is it?” Hermione asked.

“Oh, it’s just– What I said after. I’m not really proud of it.”

“Why? What did you say?”

“Something like ‘yeah, too bad that’s not ever gonna happen.’”

“Oh, my god, Harry you do compete with Ron on having the emotional range of a teaspoon sometimes,” Hermione said but she was laughing.

“Yeah, I know…” Harry said chuckling sadly.

There was some moments of silence.

“Hey, Harry?” Hermione called.

“Yes?”

“It’s alright. Okay? I’ll come to terms with it. It’s just weird. But it’s gonna be alright.”

“Good. But well, it’s over anyway, so you don’t need to worry about it anymore.”

“So… we should go to bed. Tomorrow we’ll be going home for vacations and I want you two well awake on the train. We’ll start discussing our plans on the way, there’s tons of things to think about.”

“Oh, my god, Hermione…”

“Don’t even start, Harry, there _is_ tons of things to settle.”

“Hm, yeah, okay, whatever you say, mom.”

Hermione rolled her eyes at Harry, who laughed in response as they made their ways to their respective doors.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco goes back to Hogwarts and talks with Snape.

**Year Seven.**

Harry knew that wasn’t the best note in which to leave things. But it was for the best.

Now he saw that his attitude wasn’t ideal and that he shouldn’t’ve treated Draco the way that he did all that time. He regretted it, he really did. But he decided it was better this way because it would make their relation, affair, or whatever that was, have a stronger sense of being over. Draco would hate him, that would make it easier for him to forget Harry. Knowing that would make it easier to Harry to forget that and focus on the matter at hand. Which was a crazy mission he had gotten himself into. He needed to focus on finding those Horcruxes. He needed to focus on defeating Voldemort. There were really serious things going on. He couldn’t let his mind wander in things like relationships and etc.

Even if he caught himself thinking every night before falling asleep that when all that was over, he would apologize to Draco.

*

Draco didn’t go back to Hogwarts either for their seventh year. As planned, he didn’t go back to school for the last year, since his studies weren’t necessary anymore – he would learn so much more from the Death Eaters, who knew magic more powerful than anything they would teach him in that lousy mudblood-loving school. Or so they told Draco – and since after what happened last year, they didn’t need to pretend not to be followers of Voldemort anymore.

So Draco was home. With his father. Attending meetings with Death Eaters. Learning how things worked so that he could be one soon. Technically he already was. He had his tattoo. But Draco wasn’t dumb, he knew that didn’t mean anything, really. That didn’t make him respected. His father wasn’t, for chrissake. And Draco would always be his father’s son. Always in his shadow, which included – Draco very quickly realized – getting his share of being despised for his father’s mistakes.

So Draco couldn’t take it anymore. Being in that house had never been a pleasant experience, but of late if had become Draco’s own personal hell. A constant reminder of the destiny they had reserved for him, the one he preferred to die than uphold, however, the one he was being forced to fulfill.

So he asked his father to go back to Hogwarts. He thought that maybe there he could try to focus on having classes and homework and a normal routine and not think too much about how disgusted he was with himself for becoming a Death Eater. He sugared his asking with ideas of how it would be nice for him to be able to help Professor – Headmaster – Snape to have order there, of how he wanted to do something to help because he was so eager to be part of all that, etc, etc, etc.

At least his father had taught him something useful – after being forced to live a lie for so many years, at least you mastered how to lie.

His father at first wasn’t enthusiastic about the idea, but Draco’s mother said something about it might being good, since the Headmaster himself had asked that many times. That caught Draco’s attention. He remembered Dumbledore telling him to stick close to Snape. Draco was still a bit bitter about Dumbledore practically refusing Draco’s help when he offered it. But he wanted to give the old man a chance and discover what he meant when telling Draco to go to Snape.

*

Two days later Draco was going to Hogwarts. The term had started a month ago, but Snape being the Headmaster, of course there was no problem at all with that.

When he arrived, it was almost time for dinner. He went straight to the great hall, knowing his luggage would be fetched to his room.

After dinner, when he went to his room, he saw a note on top of his luggage. It was from Snape and told him to go to his office in the time of curfew. Draco waited in his room until that time an as soon as that hour came, he left his room and headed to the Headmaster’s office.

“Ah, Draco,” Snape said when Draco entered the office. He scrutinized Draco, analyzing him from head to toe. Like he wasn’t certain what to make of the boy.

Draco wasn’t sure what to do or say. But he was hungry for answers. He didn’t even know to what questions. Actually Draco just wanted to be acknowledged in some way that let him know he was in the right path.

“Dumbledore told me to stay close to you,” Draco blurted out. He couldn’t stand any more of playing parts, pretending, he wanted to go straight to the point.

Snape’s expression showed relief. Apparently he was still uncertain of whether Draco was there on his own account or of his father’s.

“Draco, I understand it must have been very frustrating for you what Dumbledore told you.”

“Did he tell you?”

“Yes, of course. He told me you seeked his help. That was very well done, Draco, very well done. Please understand that at that time things were already happening. There was no time to avoid things from following their course anymore. So Dumbledore saw it fit to let you out of it for the moment. He had high hopes you’d see sense and turn to his side, but he just couldn’t risk the plan at that point by letting you get too involved. There were really nothing to do.”

“There was saving him,” Draco said. He wasn’t really understanding what Snape was saying.

“Draco, Dumbledore couldn’t be saved. If he hadn’t been killed that night, he’d die weeks later from a curse he received when he wore an enchanted ring. His death was part of a plan.”

“A plan,” Draco wondered about that idea.

“Yes, a plan. To make me kill him and show my loyalty to Voldemort.”

“Your loyalty?”

“Yes. My loyalty.”

“And are you loyal to him?”

Snape thought gravely before answering. “No. But he certainly must think I am. Him and everyone else.”

“I see. That’s why you insisted on doing it for me since the beginning.”

“Yes.”

Draco didn’t know what else to say or ask.

“So what’s the plan now?” Draco asked finally.

Snape sighed. “I am not certain. I’m afraid we need the boy more than it seems to be comforting admitting.”

“The boy?” Draco asked.

“Potter.”

Draco’s heart skipped a beat at the name. “What about him?” He asked trying to pretend he didn’t care that much.

“I’m afraid we can’t talk for too long,” Snape said changing the subject with a sense of urgency, “or it might raise suspicion. If ever interrogated by any of those damned cronies, say I was just welcoming you and explaining how things are being done currently here. We’ll need to meet again, naturally. I imagine saying that you’ll be doing some spying work for me and therefore need to frequently report to me will be enough to answer any questions. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Now go to bed. Wait for me to summon you again. I’ll answer your questions in time, Draco. Now off you go.”

Draco was already at the door and Snape called him.

“And Draco?”

Draco turned. “Yes, Professor?”

“It’s important that you understand – Dumbledore did not… _refuse_ to aid you. He prepared me to guide you when the time came. Well, it seems to have come. He never refused to help you. He asked me to tell you that in hopes that you wouldn’t feel… left out.” What caught Draco’s attention was the fact that Snape had a much sweeter air when he said those things. Even though he was trying not to let it show too much, Draco could see it. Did Snape also mean those things from himself, not only as a message from Dumbledore? Anyway, those were much needed words. Draco sure did feel left out, and neglected, and refused. But he understood, now. Everyone was making sacrifices, so that had been, in a way, his share of being punched for the team.

*

He met again with Snape two days later. Snape explained to him that Harry was in a mission left to him by Dumbledore and that it was very important that Harry succeeded. He didn’t give many details, though.

“How can I – we help?” Draco asked a little too eagerly, correcting the word midsentence and hoping Snape hadn’t noticed it. Again, Snape was evasive and didn’t actually answer his question.

Apart from that they talked of how Draco was really supposed to do some spying, but on the Death Eaters that were on the castle, mainly. Also on the students, but with the purpose of mapping who were the ones most actively against the new regime and what they could be planning to do to confront it. It was important to Snape to know these things so that he could be the one catching the students red-handed and making sure they didn’t have too harsh punishments. If one of the other Death Eaters were to catch any subversive behavior, the students were up for torture. And that wasn’t even an overstatement.

*

Draco’s spirits were way, way lighter since he had come back to Hogwarts. Now he felt better about Dumbledore and had a piece of news on Harry. He knew he shouldn’t be thinking about Harry so deliberately. It wasn’t healthy for him. He knew it. But he decided not to care for a little while. If it hurt him even more, if it made him feel pain, so be it. At least he’d be feeling something, which was better than the apathy he’d been going through in his own house.

Would he have an opportunity to meet Harry again? Maybe after all this mess was over. Was this mess going to ever be over? If he depended on it to meet Harry again, his chances were horrible.

What would he even say to Harry anyway? It doesn’t matter, Harry wouldn’t listen to him anyway. He never had, anyway.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Draco talk after the Battle of Hogwarts.

**After the Battle of Hogwarts**

“That wand’s more trouble than it’s worth,” Harry said to Ron, Hermione and the painting of Dumbledore, they were in the Headmaster’s office and Harry had finally gotten his wand back, found a way to repair it. “And quite honestly, I’ve had enough trouble for a lifetime.” Harry didn’t want to keep the Elder Wand, he was very much happy with his own wand, thank you very much. He meant it when he said that that wand was too much trouble and all Harry wanted from now on was peace and quiet. No more trouble.

He told his friends he was going to take a walk. He needed it badly. A nice calm walk, to take it all in. Everything was over – finally. But there had been _so much_ trouble, and they had been _so close_ to losing and being condemned to a lifetime of suffering, that even the idea of everything being over was a huge one, and needed digesting.

Harry went by himself. He’d meet his friends later. When Harry stepped through the huge front doors of the castle, however, he saw someone whose company seemed fit.

They stared at each other for some moments. Draco wondered what he should say, if he should say anything. How would Harry take whatever he said. He wouldn’t listen, would he? He wouldn’t want to hear it. Would he?

Harry thought of what he should say. He did have to say something, right? He had to. But would Draco want to hear it? Would he even give Harry the benefit of the doubt?

“Hey, um…” Harry began. He didn’t know what he wanted to say, to be honest. “Er… I would like you to meet me. One more time,” he said. “To talk,” he added.

“Okay,” said Draco, who was sitting on the steps there were in front of the castle doors and was startled to see Harry stepping out. “Anytime,” he added and felt stupid for it. That took Harry a bit in surprise. He was expecting some backlash. He decided to seize the opportunity, he didn’t want to wait anymore. He remembered the thought he had up in the Headmaster’s office – he wanted only peace and quiet from then on. That meant he had to solve every little thing that was pendent.

“Actually, I’m going for a walk now. Would you like to come?”

“N-Now?” Draco stuttered. “People might see us…”

Harry looked around, then shrugged. “It’s okay, they can see us.” Harry was speaking in the most gentle and also casual way he could manage to, he felt guilty for the way he had treated Draco before and wanted to make sure that Draco would feel okay with his company now and that he’d know Harry wasn’t up for a fight or anything. “I mean, if that’s okay with you…”

“Sure,” Draco said maybe a little too eagerly.

They walked toward the lake, none of them said a word the whole way to the margin of the lake.

“Here,” Draco said pointing to a spot where the tree roots left enough space for two people to sit. They sat there and looked at the calm surface of the water reflecting the treetops around it and the sky above.

Harry opened his mouth to speak, but saw that Draco did the same at the same time. Harry nodded to Draco signaling that he could go first.

“No, you go first. You called me, after all,” Draco said.

Harry let a small laugh out. “I… wanted to say sorry. For the way I… treated you,” he finished the sentence almost like it was a question. “I mean, I guess the way I acted overall wasn’t very okay.” Damn, it was hard to admit this to Draco, way harder than it had been to talk about it with Ron or Hermione.

Draco laughed a little and nodded. “Yeah, I guess.”

Ouch. Harry knew of course that was true, but in these situation you always kind of expect the other person to tell you it’s alright and that you don’t need to worry. But Draco really had been hurt Harry.

Harry came to appreciate this after a while. As unpleasant as it was to admit you were wrong, it is good for you.

“Yeah it wasn’t ideal,” Draco continued. “But the circumstances were complicated, I guess.”

“Yeah,” Harry said.

“Yeah,” Draco agreed.

They stayed in silence for a little while.

“But I’m really sorry, though. I am,” Harry said.

“It’s okay, Harry,” Draco said smiling. “I believe you.”

“I was a jerk to you, Draco. Even more than you were to us, I mean.”

Draco was a bit surprised.

“What?” Harry asked.

“Nothing, it’s just… you didn’t call me by my surname.”

“Oh, I’m sorry Mr. Malfoy if I disrespected your name,” Harry said mockingly and laughed.

“Shut up, you dick,” Draco said, but he too was laughing and he really was amused. “I like it when you call me by my first name, by the way,” he added.

Harry looked sideways at him and laughed. “Okay, I’ll remember that.”

There was a moment’s silence.

“But it’s really okay,” Draco said. “No hard feelings. I get it, actually.”

“What do you mean?”

“Like, the shame and all,” he said quietly. Then, in a forcedly joyful tone, trying to lift the air, “I mean, even my dad is ashamed of me, so what’s a crush’s deception, really, am I right?” He forced a laugh to his self-deprecating joke. Harry didn’t laugh or smile, he was too surprised to, so Draco’s laughter died and he cleared his throat. That hurt in Harry, even though it was Draco’s wound. He said it like a joke, but Harry knew better than that, he could see right through Draco on that one, and he knew it wasn’t only a joke.

“I’m sorry about that,” Harry said.

“It’s okay.”

“No, it’s actually not. With all due respect, your dad is an asshole, and that’s not okay. Also I was an asshole, and that’s also not okay.” Harry hoped he hadn’t hurt Draco’s feelings more than he comforted him with his apology, which was the intention. He really meant those apologies and he wished Draco could see it. Draco did see it, he knew the boy was opening his heart to him and Draco could see that there was more Harry had stuck in his throat that he wanted to say, but was struggling to. “I wish I was more like Ron,” Harry added.

“In what sense?”

“About caring about other people’s opinions, like what they’ll say and all. He doesn’t care – much. He’s more… authentic, if that makes sense. Doesn’t care too much about what image he’ll have to others, you know?”

“I do,” Draco said quietly.

“For example,” Harry started, then paused like he was thinking whether he really wanted to say what he was going to say. He continued. “For example, remember when – I don’t know if you knew it in the first place, but when he was kinda going out with Dean. Dean Thomas, from my house, you know?”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Of course it wasn’t very serious, they just snogged here and there, but he was cool with that, you know, like he didn’t–” Harry paused again. “Hide it. You know? Then he was with Lavender Brown, and it was the same, there was no difference between. You know?”

“So what you’re trying to say is…” Draco started.

Harry took a deep breath. “When he was with a boy and when he was with a girl. That’s what I’m trying to say. He didn’t care.”

“And you do?” Draco asked.

“Kinda, a bit.”

“But with us there was the whole we-are-enemies thing.”

“Yeah, that too. But still…”

“I get it,” Draco said. “I really do.”

They stayed in silence for a while. A while that stretched into minutes. After about five minutes of silence. Draco spoke.

“So…”

“Huh?”

“Where does that leave – you know… us?” Draco asked.

Harry sighed.

“I mean,” Draco quickly said to clarify, “I know you said it was over, and all. And I get it if it’s over. But… I’d just like to know if it’s not, is all.”

“I don’t know. I didn’t think you’d still _want_ to have anything with me after… after all that and everything.”

“I mean… Yeah, I…” Now it was Draco’s turn to take a deep breath and think whether he really was going to say what he was going to say. That was the moment of putting it out already. If Harry took it well, great. If not, at least it was out of his chest. “Actually I do,” he mumbled. He cleared his throat. “Yeah, I would still like to… you know… have something with you.” He said this slowly and stressing each word so that Harry would understand and he wouldn’t need to repeat it.

“I would – I would, too,” Harry said and smiled timidly.

“Good,” Draco said.

“Good,” Harry agreed.

Another moment of silence.

“We don’t need to make it public already,” Draco said seeing the nervousness in Harry’s face.

“I know. But I would like to,” he said, but the idea clearly scared him. “I wanna do this, Draco.”

Draco let himself blush and enjoy Harry calling him by his name before speaking. “I know you do. I know you do. But let’s keep it a secret for now. That’s me who’s asking. Okay?”

Harry mumbled something inaudible.

“And later, when we feel the time is right, we’ll see what we do.”

“Okay, that sounds… better.” Harry let out a nervous giggle.

Draco laughed, amused.

“Do plan on finishing your studies?” Draco asked.

“I don’t know. Didn’t think much about it yet.”

“I’m not sure either, but I think it’d be good to finish ‘em. And if we both came back next year, we’d have more time together.” Draco nudged Harry. They smiled.

“Yeah. That would be nice, I guess.”


	11. Chapter 11

Draco was feeling a little unsure when he left the lake and went to his room. Ironically enough, he was trying to have firm steps so as not to trip and fall in the debris of the Battle. He was unsure because he didn’t know whether he had been wise in forgiving Harry so fast. But that’s the thing with forgiveness, isn’t it, you can’t actually control it. Sometimes you want to forgive someone, but just can’t because you’re still hurting and some other times you know any stable person in your place wouldn’t have forgiven, but you do. Because in your heart, the hurt has already been forgotten.

Draco knew he shouldn’t forgive and forget so fast. Of course forgiving is a good thing and holding grudges aren’t good for you, mentally or emotionally. But still… shouldn’t he be a little more pissed at Harry for the things he said?

As Draco was in his room packing his things, he couldn’t help replaying in his mind the last conversation Harry and he had had in the third floor corridor.

 _What am I doing?_ He thought.

He wasn’t trying to hold a grudge against Harry, or anything, of course. The thing was that this situation was scary, because Draco felt vulnerable. As it was turning out, he was so unconditionally and irrevocably in love with Harry and that made him not care too much about himself. That was a scary thing to realize about yourself.

_Should I be feeling differently? How should I be feeling?_

Draco wondered while packing his clothes.

 _How_ am _I feeling?_

He wasn’t sure what was the answer to any of those questions.

Crabbe and Goyle entered the room at that moment – of course they had been one of those that went home in the first opportunities when things started to get ugly the night before, but they had come back to pack their things and take them home. Everyone was doing so, since they left in a hurry with nothing more than what they had on their bodies – talking excitedly about what they’d be doing during summer.

After greeting Draco, Goyle asked, “How ‘bout you, Draco? What’re you gonna do?”

Draco thought for a moment. “I don’t know. I have no idea.”

*

Harry went to the Burrow for vacation. It was funny _finally_ being able to go to Ron’s house straight from Hogwarts, a thing he asked for years, but that would never be conceded him. Now it had been. Now there weren’t any more obstacles, no more dangers of being attacked by Voldemort or one of his cronies the Death Eaters. Hermione was going, too. Mrs. Weasley invited her and she was happy to accept, she’d only first spend a week with her parents, of course, the poor things must have been dying with worry for their daughter.

Harry wished she would be back already with them in the Burrow. He wanted to ask her opinion on whether he should send a letter to Draco. He didn’t know why he was so awkward about it, but he didn’t know what he should do to make a good impression. Would he be too gluey if he sent Draco a letter? Would he seem too unattached if he didn’t? And especially after the talk they had by the lake. Harry went home shortly after that, so they didn’t say goodbye properly. Harry didn’t know if not saying anything would make it look like what he said by the lake was not for real or if maybe it was okay not to send anything for now and wait some weeks.

As soon as they arrived at the Burrow Harry started writing a letter to Hermione, to ask her opinion on the matter. As he was writing, Ron entered the room. He was eating a doughnut.

“Ron, should I write Draco a letter? We haven’t said goodbye before leaving, so I don’t know if I should… you know, say something.”

Ron shrugged and said with his mouth full, “I don’t know.”

Half an hour later, Harry was sending the owl to Hermione. The day after, the owl came back with her answer.

_Hey, Harry_

_Yes, you should. You really need to stop being afraid to open up to people, Harry. You’re funny, you know? You have the guts to speak your mind to Umbridge, but you don’t when it comes to speaking your mind to people you care about._

_It’s sweet in a way._

_Don’t be afraid to tell him how you feel._

_– Hermione._

*

Before the end of the first week of vacation, Draco received an owl. It was from Harry.

_Hey, Draco._

_How are you doing?_

_I just thought of writing because we never got the chance to say goodbye and all, right? We left in a bit of a hurry._

_By “we”, I mean Ron’s family, I’m staying with them._

_Well, anyway. How are things for you?_

_See you._

_– Harry._

Draco couldn’t deny that he was smiling as he read the note. Or that his heart skipped a beat even before he opened it, just at the sight of from whom it was.

The scary feeling came again.

Draco decided he would try something. He would write back and he would ask Harry to not send any more letters for the rest of the summer. Even as Draco wrote it he felt sad thinking that he wanted Harry to write him, every day if he would. But Draco wanted to – needed to – know if he could live without Harry. It was a test. Draco was testing himself. To see how would he cope with it.

He didn’t cut Harry off or anything. He talked a bit of how things were for him at home and said that he hadn’t told his father yet, so, because he was afraid his father might see one of the letter and ask questions, it would be better if they didn’t communicate just yet, and waited for the classes to come back. And he wasn’t lying. He _was_ afraid of his father intercepting one of the letters; Draco would have _a lot_ of explaining to do if that happened. But he pushed those thoughts about his father aside, that was a matter for another time.

Just some months, and then Draco would be back at Hogwarts. He did go back to Hogwarts in his seventh year, but it was pretty late into the term and his father kept calling him back home for meetings and stuff like that and Draco would always stay up to a week of something. So Draco was barely having classes properly, and even when he did, there wasn’t really much to learn in classes with teachers being threatened constantly of punishment if they said anything slightly against the regime in the school at the time. So Draco was going back for an eight year, to finish his studies.

_And be with Harry._


	12. Chapter 12

_Just some months,_ Draco had thought, _musn’t take too long to go by._ And man was he wrong.

Those couple of months before the beginning of Hogwarts new term seemed to take forever to pass. Each week was like a whole year, especially being stuck in a home with Draco’s father. His relation with his father had always been complicated, but now it was something else. Draco had always let his head down and obeyed his father, but during the time of Voldemort’s return more than that was expected from Draco. He had to be _enthusiastic_ about being his father’s son, about being in the path of becoming Voldemort’s follower. That, of course, was not the case, and everyone noticed it. Draco knew his father was ashamed of the son he had, even if he didn’t say anything to Draco.

That was another thing – he didn’t say anything to Draco. Anything at all. If it weren’t for the resemblance and the fact that the whole British wizarding community knew the Malfoy family, you wouldn’t grasp that they were father and son just by looking at them together. Lucius treated Draco with a formality that was coldness, treating only about what was necessary. Draco sensed that his father couldn’t stand be in the same place as him, being reminded by Draco’s sight that he didn’t have a prodigy son to be proud of and to brag about to others.

On top of that, you had the terrible state in which Lucius’s reputation was amongst the Death Eaters after being a coward when Voldemort disappeared. Lucius wanted so bad to have a prodigy for a son, a son that would enter headfirst in Voldemort’s ideology and help Lucius’s reputation, that he ended up blaming Draco for his own failure, even if he himself wasn’t totally aware of doing so.

So there you have it; not a very pleasing household to live in. Lucius treated Draco with coldness, as if he was no more than an associate. Not that Draco wanted him to act affectionate or anything. Draco, too, wasn’t too fond of that man. A coward, a horrible person, a person that complied with a wicked ideology.

Draco’s mother, too, wasn’t very affectionate. Not because she didn’t want to, but because she was too submissive of her husband to displease him, and raising his son like a sissy would certainly displease him. Draco was kind of angry with her for being so submissive, but he understood deep down that it was less her fault than other things. What did he expect from her after her living a lifetime of being conditioned to live like this? He grew used to their coldness and now he was almost thankful for it. In the end his parents’ coldness made it easier for him to distance himself from them. Now he was almost brave enough to defy his father. What would he do, after all? Lucius was a nobody now that Voldemort was gone for good; every last tiny bit of menace he held toward the wizarding community was gone. They were still rich alright, but no one was going to do business with the Malfoys any longer and their fortune would eventually fade. Seeing his father as a miserable coward made it easier to think that he didn’t need to live with his head down around him anymore. Draco almost wanted to write to Harry saying that it was ok, that he could send as many owls as he likes, and Draco would make sure his father saw the letters and whom they were from. What would his father do? Punish him? Draco was skilled enough to defend himself.

But no, not yet. He would uphold his decision to not have correspondence as long as he was home. He would wait until classes began to communicate with Harry again.

Ah, communicating with Harry. Draco didn’t stop thinking about Harry even for a minute. Harry represented warmth amidst the coldness of his house and parents, that’s why it was so easy to forget any hurt. Once again Draco had the scary thought that there was nothing Harry could do to make him stop wanting Harry.

That was scary but was the truth.

*

Those months of break had Harry with mixed feelings. For the first time he left Harry and didn’t need to go to the Dursleys’, he went straight to the Burrow, something he dreamed of doing for all of the six years of his studies. Not going back to the Dursleys’ was happiness enough, but he still had more reasons for cheerfulness – he was with his best friend Ron and his family, the Weasleys, that always welcomed him wholeheartedly and made him feel part of the family. On top of _that_ , the whole country was in a festive climate because Voldemort had finally been defeated for good. Even though the reasons to be happy seemed endless, Harry caught himself being wistful and sad.

The cause of that was no other than Draco, of course. He understood what Draco told him, about Draco’s father, but it was hard not to write to Draco every day. He caught himself grabbing a sheet of parchment to begin writing a letter that he’d keep and deliver to Draco in Hogwarts. But he always gave up, because he wouldn’t know what to write anyway. He thought of the relation between Draco and his father and of how horrible that must be. Harry was surrounded by love, he shivered to think of how Draco must be feeling, being surrounded by darkness and hatred. Of course Draco’s father wouldn’t like one bit to know of their relation.

Hermione arrived at the Burrow as scheduled, her parents with her. It was funny to see two muggles amidst so many enchanted devices.

As soon as she arrived, in the first opportunity alone – even apart from Ron, who was showing his in laws to their room – she asked Harry about whether he had written to Draco.

“I did, yes,” said Harry timidly.

“And?” Hermione inquired further. “Did he write you back?”

“He did…”

“Harry! What did he say?”

Harry felt his face getting red – he was embarrassed. “To not write anymore.” He saw Hermione’s face fall before turning to sit on the bed. Before she could ask “What?” he told her what Draco said in the letter, about his father, etc.

“Oh,” Hermione said. “Ok. At least he did like it that you wrote him, right?”

“Yeah, I guess,” said Harry.

Hermione sat at the bed, too. “I never thought I’d say this,” said her, “but poor Draco.”

Harry laughed. Hermione joined in.

*

With the time seemingly slowing down and every day taking longer to pass than the previous one, finally the break ended. Harry and Draco would see each other again.


	13. Chapter 13

Aboard the Hogwarts express, Harry was silently praying no one would ask about Draco. He was trying to play it cool and seem like he was casual about it, but inside he felt like beginning to shake with… he didn’t even know with what – nervousness, anxiousness, shyness – all of those combined.

“Have you seen Draco yet, Harry?” came the dreaded question, Ron was the one who asked it. They had arrived late at the platform and pretty much everyone had already boarded so they didn’t actually meet anyone, they just had time to hurry – what wasn’t very easy because of their trunks – and look for an empty compartment. Luckily they found Neville in one accompanied only by Dean and Ginny quickly joined some of her friends of her year. Harry’s stomach dropped at the prospect of having this topic discussed in front of an audience – Neville and Dean seemed like a whole crowd at this moment.

Harry must have slipped his casual mask or Hermione supposed what was going on inside his mind, because she elbowed Ron discretely. For Harry’s relief Dean and Neville were both distracted – reading a magazine and looking for something in his trunk causing a mess respectively – and seemed to not have heard Ron’s question.

Harry shrugged. “No. I’ll talk to him when we get there,” he said simply hoping this would be enough to signal he didn’t want to discuss this right now. Or ever.

The thing was that Harry was going nuts because of this. He didn’t know how to act towards it, what he should do. Going to Draco’s compartment was definitely not an option. What would he say when he got there anyway? Harry had been lucky not to bump into Draco in the hallway and be forced into saying something in front of other people, so he wouldn’t walk into this scenario.

It was unnerving having no idea of how things would play out. What should he say? “Hey”? “How are you?” “How was your summer”? None of those things seemed right. “I missed you” was what he _wanted_ to say. Not even “Hi,” just “I missed you. A lot.” But of course he couldn’t say that in front of other people. The good part was that he knew that this awkwardness would exist all the same if he was with a girl. This has nothing to do with the person in question being a boy, it had everything to do with the fact the everyone seemed to be transported to kindergarten when it came to dating and he’d definitely be made fun of for being all silly and in love.

*

In one of the last compartments of the train, Draco almost could manage to convince himself he wasn’t nervous _and_ anxious to meet Harry and forget this topic for more than five minutes. Almost. Looking out the window he tried to let his thoughts wander freely and drift far away so that he wouldn’t need to actually think about anything, but every few minutes he’d remember where he was. A train compartment. The train was the Hogwarts Express. In that same train was Harry. Harry. Draco sighed for the millionth time.

He was in a compartment with a few other Slytherins he hadn’t really had much contact with. He chose a compartment with people from other years than his on purpose so that no one would bother him. At least something useful his old life brought him, he did manage to build a pretty good reputation in Slytherin so hardly any of the people in that compartment would feel like they had any aperture to talk to Draco.

*

The train arrived in Hogsmead station and Harry had already been in his school robes for more than an hour. This was a first. He planned on leaving the train as soon as it stopped and getting on one of the first carriages to the castle. He was decided that he wasn’t meeting Draco when he was on his way to the castle, walking or getting his trunk out of the compartment or something like that; he knew himself well enough to know that in those situations he was bound to be clumsy and make a fool of himself.

 _If anyone ask me why I’m in a hurry,_ Harry thought when the train was almost stopping and he was standing up, _I can say it’s just because we’re one of the first compartments and we need to hurry so we don’t create a hold up. What am I thinking, no one’s gonna ask me anything. Oh god, Harry Potter just shut up and get going already._

He was right no one asked him anything, but that was probably because before they had the opportunity to point out his being in a hurry to leave the train he said, “Hey, let’s hurry before there’s a crowd of people pushing us. And to get a good carriage.”

Well, they did get to the carriages before most people and Harry was in fact one of the first to climb in a carriage. More precisely they arrived before everyone except one person.

“Hey, Harry,” Draco said when he saw Harry, Ron and Hermione approaching, “I thought maybe we could go in a carriage together?” He finished the sentence like it was a question. “We could all go…”

“How are you already here?” Ron asked amazed.

“I…” Draco stuttered. “I just walk fast I guess,” he finished feeling like he had just said the stupidest thing anyone could have said, in the stupidest way.

“I have to admit, that was cute,” Ron said. Draco’s face got went from pale to red. Hermione laughed at Ron’s comment.

“What?” he asked.

“Nothing,” she said, “you’re right, that was a sweet move.” A mass of black-robed students was getting ever nearer. “Let’s go already,” Hermione added pushing Ron to the carriage behind the one Draco was standing by.

“Yes,” Harry said stupidly, answering Draco’s question-intoned sentence. Draco smiled and they climbed onto the carriage.

Neither knew what to say for some seconds, then both blurted out at the same time.

“I missed you so much,” Harry said.

“I’m sorry for asking you to–” Draco began.

“What?” both said at the same time and then answered each other’s question, still speaking at the same time.

“I’m sorry for telling you not to send any more letters.”

“I missed you so much I didn’t know what to do with myself.”

They looked at each other not saying anything for the duration of one second, then – not being able to say who moved forward first – they were kissing passionately. At first, they kissed as if their lives depended on it. After some moments, their breaths eased and they kissed with relief.

“Draco – I’m sorry,” Harry said between breaths and kisses. “I’m sorry for what I said – for how I treated you – I shouldn’t’ve – I should’ve never – I’m sorry.” Harry was hugging Draco and before he knew it his face was wet with the tears that kept coming.

Draco was hugging him back, at first startled by the sudden burst from Harry, but now relishing on the feeling of Harry’s body pressed to his. “I’m sorry, too, Harry, for what I said before. I’ve said hurtful things, too. To you and the others. I shouldn’t’ve listened to my father.” A tear rolled down Draco’s face, too, but it was less of hurt and more of relief. The scary feeling felt weaker. “Hush, now, we’re almost there, you don’t want to be seen a mess on the first day of school, do you?”

Harry laughed a bit. “I don’t know if I care that much anymore.” But he wiped his cheeks dry and eased his breathing. Harry sniffed and smiled at Draco. Draco smiled back.

“Let’s eat dinner at our Houses’ tables and we meet again after, okay?” Draco said as they were climbing down from the carriage.

“Okay,” Harry said.

Ron and Hermione got out of their carriage and rejoined with Harry.

*

“Were you crying?” Hermione asked after they had entered the Great Hall and headed for Gryffindor table.

“Yeah… I… Please don’t ask?” Harry said embarrassed.

Hermione laughed sympathetically. “Don’t worry.”

*

Harry and Draco kept throwing glances at each other during dinner. Draco left the Great Hall at a moment in the middle of dinner and Harry had to fight the urge to follow him. He fought the urge and stayed put, minutes later Draco was back at the Great Hall and Harry was relieved to see he went on eating like nothing happened.

When dinner was over Hermione said, “Hey, Harry, we’re going in front to Gryffindor Tower, okay?” Harry mumbled an “Okay,” and his friends walked faster going the way to the seventh floor along with the Gryffindor crowd. Harry and Draco met in the Entrance Hall.

“I have good news,” Draco said. “None of my former roommates came back to school. I went to the room to confirm if there weren’t any trunks there and I’m totally alone in my room. Meet me at the entrance to the dungeons at eleven thirty?”

“Make it midnight.”

“Why?”

“It was the time of the duel you challenged me to in our first year,” Harry said with a grin.

“Oh, do you really have to remind me of that?”

Harry laughed. “No, but it’s fun to.”

“ _Anyways_ … don’t forget the cloak.”

“I won’t.”

*

Even though it was already more than 10pm when dinner ended, midnight seemed to take very long to arrive. Harry had showered and changed in about five minutes and lied in bed counting the seconds.

Finally, the time came. He grabbed his cloak and left his room. “Psst. I’m here,” he said minutes later when he arrived at the corridor that led to the dungeons, taking his head out of the cloak. Draco led him to the entrance to Slytherin common room, which was empty except for two or three people, and then to his room. Only one of the five four posters beds had a trunk by its side.

“Hey,” Harry said insecure as they lied down on Draco’s bed, “is it okay if we don’t, like, do anything? Just sleep?”

Draco sighed with relief. “I was gonna say the same thing. I’m dead tired.”

Draco lied down belly up and Harry lied his head on Draco’s chest and had his arm around Draco’s waist. It felt like heaven for both of them and they had the best night’s sleep of their lives.


	14. Chapter 14

That was the best year Harry had ever had at Hogwarts. Every day he would sneak out of his room with his invisibility cloak and sneak into Draco’s room and they would sleep cuddling.

“If some years ago someone told me I would be making a little personal heaven out of a dorm room in _Slytherin_ House, I don’t even know what I’d say,” Harry said one time to Draco as they were lying in bed together, Draco on his back and Harry on top of him with his head on Draco’s chest. “I guess I’d just laugh until I couldn’t breathe and die.”

“Jesus, Harry. Morbid much?” Draco exclaimed, but he was laughing.

“And that’s not all, that _Draco Malfoy_ ,” he raised his head to look at Draco, their noses almost touching, “ _Draco Malfoy_ ,” he repeated, “was the center of this personal heaven…. Really, that’d be too much.” He laid his head down again and closed his eyes with a smile on his lips.

Draco’s heart beat a bit faster at those words and he hesitated, praying Harry wouldn’t notice. How could he not? His ear was pressed against Draco’s chest. Harry raised his head again with a puzzled look at Draco. “What’s wrong?”

“Personal _heaven_?” Draco felt his face getting red. “Am I…” he really – _really_ – wished Harry would look away and not see his face, which was getting redder every second, “really all that?” He was sure that if he looked himself in the mirror at that moment all he would see would be a tomato, his face was warm from blushing and a shiver ran through all of his body.

“Oh, Draco,” Harry said letting out a laugh of relief that there wasn’t serious reason behind Draco’s heartbeat. Plus, not only the reason was not something serious, but it was also the most sweet and adorable thing Harry had ever seen. “Draco… do you still have doubts?” Harry couldn’t help but grin.

“Not, like, doubts, but… I don’t know. I really don’t know if I’m all that, you know?”

“You,” Harry said and reached to kiss Draco on the right cheek, “are,” then reached for the left cheek and kissed there, “all,” then a kiss on the forehead, “that,” and a kiss on the lips.

 _I’m just afraid you’ll get bored of me and leave me,_ Draco thought. _I can’t say that_ , he told himself right after, as if it had been other person who had had the first thought and now he was making sure that that person wouldn’t speak out of turn. _It’ll ruin the mood. Or maybe I_ should _say it. Maybe I need to practice express those thoughts. No, I can’t, what would he think? I shouldn’t even be thinking those things. But I can’t prevent what I think, can I_. It was like an arguing inside his head. _Do I have reasons to have that insecurity?_ Somehow it felt bad to think that he maybe had a reason; saying that he had a reason to be insecure about Harry was like blaming Harry for something, but he didn’t want to do that.

It must have been perceptible that the gears inside Draco’s mind were spinning, because Harry frowned a little. “What?” Harry asked.

“It’s nothing, it’s just…” Draco started, now he had to say something. “I– I don’t know, it’s nothing, really, but, like….” Draco took a deep breath in then let it out. “Harry. I want to be with you… like, for a… _very_ … long time. Like… for the rest of my life…” Then he stopped talking, as if that alone had made everything clear and it was now Harry’s turn to speak. Even though it sounded crazy that this would be enough to make Harry understand what he meant, it seemed to work.

Harry sighed and lowered his head, supporting his forehead in Draco’s collarbone.

 _Oh no oh no oh no oh no. He’s disappointed. He’s gonna say I grasped the wrong idea, that I understood things wrong. That that was not what–_ Draco’s thoughts were interrupted by Harry head raising again.

“And you have doubts of whether I want the same,” Harry said. Draco noticed on his intonation that that was not a question, that was a statement. “That I’m just having fun with you. Draco, I–” Harry’s word trailed off as he let out a nervous laugh. “That same thought has crossed my mind about you. That you’d get bored of me. Or worse, that I’d be too difficult for you to deal with, that I’d hurt you somehow, I don’t know. Draco, I too want to be with you,” a sly smile formed on Harry’s mouth, “for a _very_. Long. Time. Like. For the rest. Of my life,” Harry said, exaggerating the pauses to mimic Draco’s words.

They stayed still for a second or two, just looking at each other, both smiling. Then both reached for a kiss, long and intense.

“I’m sorry that you have that fear,” Harry said when they parted. “I know that it must be hard for you to not have it. I mean, I didn’t make things very easy, have I?” He laughed guiltily.

“It’s fine,” Draco said suddenly very soft, as if the conversation was now in a totally different topic. Actually it really was. Draco sensed how sad with regret Harry got when he talked of the past, when Harry wasn’t very cool to Draco. Draco also sensed the honesty in Harry when he said he was sorry.

Draco understood it, really. He didn’t hold it against Harry. It must have been difficult to admit he had feelings for Draco when Draco was so committed to being a jerk to him and his friends for many years. Draco wasn’t any saint either of course.

Draco pushed those thoughts away. It was no good thinking of this now. Or ever. What mattered was that they were fine, and together, with nothing between them. Both figuratively and literally because they were naked.

What they had was so precious. It was really something to make you feel blessed. Their being naked wasn’t erotic. They had sex, yes, but many times they would be lying in bed together totally naked without sex even crossing their minds. It wasn’t about sex, it was about the intimacy. It was about knowing that there was nothing to hide. Even more than not having anything to hide, it was _wanting_ to show everything. They both had insecurities about their bodies – especially Draco – and they both admired the other’s body and thought that that was the most beautiful person in the world. It wasn’t the erotic kind of admiration.

Draco heard Harry gasp a little suddenly.

“What’s wrong?”

“Do you know what I just thought?” Harry asked. “What thought just crossed my mind? I was thinking about us being together forever. Living together, in the same house. Some place we could really feel at home, you know, decorate it and all. Have a pet. And then I thought that then I’ll be amongst things that I love. I love thinking of growing old with you. I love the idea of being with you. Because I love you, Draco. Draco,” Harry once again raised his head and looked Draco in those beautiful, gorgeous, perfect gray eyes, “I love you.”

“Fuck, you’re making me red again,” Draco said with a cracked voice. And he really was slightly red. He messed Harry’s hair with both his hands, barely seeing it because his eyes were filled with tears. One tear rolled down his cheek. “I– love you, too.” His voice cracking, he was crying now. “Merlin, I’m a mess!” He said laughing and crying at the same time.

“Hey,” Harry said trying to speak in a soothing voice through the laughter. “Don’t say that. Don’t say that, hear me?” Harry laid his head and pushed his hands around Draco’s body to hold him in a tight hug.

The scary feeling peeked around the corner, almost threatening to show up fully. But it was different now, the scary feeling seemed to only make the love more intense. “How can I love you so much that it feels like I’m might just explode?” Draco said.

“I don’t know, Draco, I don’t know. Let’s just hold each other real close so we can keep each other in one piece.”

And so they did.


	15. Chapter 15

“Are you ever going to sleep, you know, in your bed? _In your room_ , someday?” Ron asked him the next day at night, when Harry was getting ready to once again – as he had done every day thus far since the getting back to Hogwarts two weeks ago – to sneak out of Gryffindor Tower and into Slytherin House room to sleep in Draco’s room. “I might as well use your bed to keep my clothes instead of in the trunk.”

Harry shrugged, “You might,” and put his invisibility cloak around his body and disappearing. He took profit of him and Ron being alone in the room to get covered already and head out before their roommates came from the common room. Not that Seamus, Neville and Dean didn’t noticed Harry wasn’t in the room during the nights, but they were in a kind of “don’t ask, don’t tell” policy. They never directly mentioned Harry’s absence, so Harry never directly mentioned in front of them that he was leaving Gryffindor Tower after curfew. Much less that he was to be entering _Slytherin_ House. But they all connected the dots, even if subconsciously. They would never even try to get into Harry’s way for lots of reasons. One of them was that they were a tiny bit afraid of Harry; you don’t go crossing the path of the only person on Earth who was able to defeat Voldemort, and what was more, defeat him many times. It was that kind of fear that comes actually from respect; Harry’s classmates had a huge respect for him and there was a sort of feeling of letting him do whatever he wanted, since he saved all of their lives and that’s a debt they would never be able to pay. That feeling of respect worked wonders for Harry, even if he was unaware of it. Harry was very humble, never thought much of himself and tended to be oblivious to things in his surroundings, so he didn’t really realize people felt that way toward him. He also didn’t realize that his relationship with Draco was no longer a secret; people noticed it and the word spread. And people were okay with it. Harry (and Draco for that matter) still had their fears about how things would be if they disclosed their relationship publicly. They would discover they needn’t have.

Noticing Harry and Draco were together was no hard task. That had been one of the first things they discussed in their nightly meetings. They had come to the conclusion that they could take things easy and see how it turned out. They wouldn’t, of course, announce it, but they also wouldn’t particularly _hide_ anything, if that made any sense. What happened was that they were clearly not enemies anymore – constantly they would meet in the hallways and people were surprise to see that there was no showdown of insults between the two. People were further surprised to see the two greeting each other friendly as they passed each other on their way to classes. Draco was certainly one of the most popular kids amongst the Slytherins; and Harry was Harry, of course, so the combination of these two was more than anyone would dare confront, so at first no one went to them to ask what was going on. But when they started forming duos for activities in classes, that was too much and a few bolder Slytherins couldn’t keep out of it anymore.

“So, what’s the deal with the both of you?” a Slytherin girl asked one time after the group had arranged itself in duos and the teacher was away grabbing some materials in another room. Harry and Draco had formed a duo, naturally.

“What’s the deal with the both of us?” Harry asked her in the same tone she asked them.

She didn’t seem pleased with the rebuke. “So Harry is your little boyfriend now, is he, Draco?”

Draco was super unsure at first when the girl first approached them, but Harry’s relaxed way of dealing with it made him calmer. He knew what she was doing, too. She would look for whoever was the easiest target; Harry already showed himself to not be the one, so she now turned to Draco. He wouldn’t give her the pleasure. Draco opened a pleased grin, like she had just told him a joke.

“I don’t know,” he said, then turning to Harry, “Are you?”

Harry shrugged. “I might.”

Draco turned back to the girl. “He says he might.”

“So you’re his owl then, are you?” the girl tried once again.

Draco turned to Harry once again. “Am I?”

Harry, turning to Draco, “Oh, no, of course not.”

Draco turned back to the girl, “He says I’m not.”

The girl was even more displeased to see that she wasn’t being able to get under their skins. On top of that, the rest of the class had, of course, heard the exchange and was now all looking at them and giggling at the rebukes. Fury started to build up on her face and she was opening her mouth to speak when other girl spoke from where she was sitting.

“Just mind your own business, Julie, why don’t you?” This sitting girl said through a giggle. The girl who was standing in front of Harry and Draco – Julie – seemed about to let smoke out of her ears. Before she could decide whether she’d go on in this exchange or not, the professor came back and she strode away to her seat, which, surprisingly enough, was with the girl who stood up for Harry and Draco. They heard the other girl saying – still giggling – “I told you not to go there, just mind your own business, it’s really not that hard.”

“Fuck off, Astoria,” they heard the Julie girl say, in a low voice so that the professor, who was still arranging thing on his desk, wouldn’t hear. “You’re supposed to have my back, not go siding with a Gryffindor.”

“I had your back,” Astoria answered. “When I told you not to go there. You were asking for it,” she finished and giggled a bit more. The professor stood up and started talking with the class, making the two girl stop their conversation. Harry, who had been listening to their exchange smiled satisfied and grateful for the Astoria girl. It was really heartwarming to see Slytherins being nice.

*

On the days that followed, the two were getting more and more comfortable being together in public. They had gone from – before the War – insulting each other in every encounter in the hallways to – after the War – not insulting each other and actually greeting each other. From discreet _Hi_ ’s and _Hello_ ’s they went to casual chitchat, to conversations… to holding hands.

By the end of the first month of the school year it was out and clear that Harry and Draco were together. They were out and proud homosexuals and extremely happy to be homosexuals together. It was so liberating to spend time in their free time, to go for walks, to stay for hours lying in the grass together, eventually stealing one or two kisses.

Harry inflicted a reasonable respect in the students in general, especially in Gryffindors, and Ravenclaws seemed to not have anything against him. Hufflepuffs in general were just really appreciative of their courage and seemed happy to see them happy. And Draco’s former reputation inside Slytherin seemed to still stand at some level, because the Slytherins in general didn’t bother him and when one tried, the scene with Julie was the usual result, so they were quick to realize that trying was most certainly embarrassing themselves and gave up.

With this scenario, one could suppose it was safe to say that Harry and Draco were the Power Couple of Hogwarts.


	16. Epilogue

“Scorpiuuuus,” came the calling from the door of the kitchen of Grimmauld Place, number 12.

“Comiiing!” came the answer from one bedrooms, the one closest to the top of the stairs.

“You better!” said the first voice. “Or do you want to lose your train to the first day of school?” Harry rested his hands on his hips and let out a sigh as he shook his head from side to side. But he’s face beamed cheerfulness. “I bet he’s worrying about looking good on he’s first day. Your stubborn gene did have to pass your vanity to him, didn’t it?” Harry had barely finished the sentence when the punch of Draco hit his arm, not strong enough to hurt.

“Oh, fuck off, will you?” Draco said as he let himself be pulled in to Harry embrace and received his warm kiss. “He has every right to be anxious, after all, doesn’t he?”

“Okay, I’m just kidding. You’re definitely right, I tried talking to him last night to calm his nerves. I guess I didn’t do a very good job,” Harry said and laughed a nervous laugh. “I’m not as good as you in these things. Go and try to say a few word of encouragement to him?”

“Okay,” Draco said as he went to leave the kitchen.

“Thanks. Love you,” in an almost whisper. Draco couldn’t resist when Harry spoke like that. “But also hurry him,” Harry said once again on the Mother-Weasley-tone he grew to master over the years. “He _will_ arrive late if he takes too much longer.”

*

Draco knocked twice on Scorpius’s door. “Come in,” came the answer. When Draco opened the door, he saw his son sitting on the bed, putting on his shoes. He stood up. “Does this look good? Or maybe I should use this other pair.” He was going to take the shoes off when Draco intervened.

“Scorpius, this looks perfect. You don’t need to stall anymore.”

Scorpius looked guiltily at his father. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay, come here,” said Draco as he sat on the bed and padded on the spot to his side indicating for Scorpius to sit there. Scorpius sat. “I know it’s scary. I was scared as hell when I was your age. But hear this from someone who was been on your shoes: you have nothing to worry about. Really, you don’t. Everything will be fine. You’re probably afraid you won’t make any friends. Or feeling some pressure because of the fame of your father…” Draco said that a little bit like a question, like a suggestion.

“Yeah, I guess. I don’t know, it’s just… everything. I know there is nothing to be _afraid_ of, but still…”

“I understand. It’s a huge change in your life, and the beginning of a very important phase, it’s normal to feel anxious. Just remember we will always be here for you. No matter what happens. Okay?”

“Okay,” Scorpius said meekly.

“Now come here,” Draco said. He hugged Scorpius and gave him a kiss on the forehead. “Now, let’s go have some breakfast before your father needs to call you down again.”

They went down to the kitchen.

*

Harry and Draco had already eaten, but Harry was drinking coffee to make company to Scorpius as he ate. Draco took a mug and joined Harry on drinking coffee.

“So, are you calmer now?” Harry asked. “It’s normal to get a bit worked up, we’ve all been there. With so many new things to think about and all that. The choosing ceremony and all.”

“Oh, the choosing ceremony is what I’m the least worried about,” Scorpius said. “I don’t have the pressure of having to fall into a certain House, you two are already from different Houses.”

“Oh.” Harry was a tad surprised to hear an eleven-year-old wizard speak so matter-of-factly about Hogwarts Houses. Usually this a topic made the youngsters anxious.

“I feel bad for Rose, she feels like she has the obligation to be in Gryffindor because her whole family was,” Scorpius went on. “And anyway I’m pretty sure I’ll be in Gryffindor, too.”

Draco was in the middle of a sip of coffee when this last sentence came and he had to struggle not to spit coffee over the whole table. Harry would have spat coffee in the whole table, but luckily he wasn’t drinking at that exact moment.

Harry let out a short laugh. “Is that so?” he said, amused.

“Yeah,” Scorpius said simply, not taking his eyes off his food.

“And why is that?” Draco asked.

“Because you said we are sorted according to the values we admire the most.”

“And what’s wrong with Slytherin values?” Draco asked, also amused.

“Nothing wrong with them, it’s just that I wanna be like you two.”

“What do you mean?” Harry asked.

“Brave like you two.”

“What do you mean?” It was Draco’s turn to ask. “You’re forgetting only one of us was the oh-so-valiant savior of the wizarding world. And that’s certainly not me,” he said with a chuckle. “I was pretty much a coward the whole time.”

“No, you were not,” Scorpius said simply. That took Draco a little aback.

“What do you mean?” he asked once again.

“I’m not talking about the whole battle thing. I’m talking about the other stuff.”

“What other stuff?” Harry asked.

“Oh, you know, being together against the odds. Everyone expected you two to hate each other, that seems like something you need bravery to do, doesn’t it?”

Scorpius’s matter-of-fact tone made the impact of his words even bigger. Harry and Draco were stupefied, looking from their son to each other with silly smiled on their faces.

“Dad Draco even confronted his own father to be with you, Dad Harry. That must have been scary.” A chill ran all over Draco’s body only at the memory of how it felt back then to face his father. “And I admire that, so I think I’ll probably be sorted into Gryffindor. Cause you said the Sorting Hat sorts us based on the values we _admire_ , right? Not necessarily what we _have_. Isn’t it? Well, that’s why I think I’ll go to Gryffindor. Well, too bad yellow is Hufflepuff’s color, cause that’s my favorite color. I could also go to Hufflepuff, maybe. I’m a lot like Hufflepuff, aren’t I, dads?” But his dads didn’t answer, they were still too stupefied to speak. “Dads?” Scorpius asked finally raising his face from his plate.

“Right, sweetie, yes, of course. You’ll do fine in any House.” Draco said wiping his eyes before any tear rolled down, because if the first rolled down he wasn’t sure he’d be able to contain the others and he didn’t want to arrive at platform 9¾ already a mess.

Harry did let his tear roll down.

“What’s wrong?” Scorpius asked.

“Oh, nothing’s wrong. Quite on the opposite. Everything is great. I feel so lucky to have you two in my life, you know that?” Harry looked at the two of them in front of him. What a sight to behold.

Two almost identical platinum blonde heads and pale faces. The love of Harry’s life and their child. The latter almost the copy of the former. It was like having a miniature Draco in the house, reminding Harry of Draco when he was just as young – not any of the bad things, no. Reminding Harry only of the good things. Of the beauty that Draco had ever had, ever since a child.

Each time Harry looked at Scorpius, the sight of the kid reminded him of how much he loved Draco, how blessed he felt to have him in his life and how lucky he was to be able to build a family with him. It also reminded him of how much he loved Scorpius, too, of course. Harry loved that little adorable thing so much and in a whole different way to the way he loved Draco, so his heart hurt from both things. It was really just an overwhelming feeling of being luckier than one deserves. So Harry thanked the gods, the cosmos, Merlin, whoever was there to thank for being so blessed.

*

The thought of having a child came some time after they started being a couple officially back in school and they had way more time to spend together, not needing to hide and the idea of spending the rest of their lives together became each day more imminent.

One day, a couple of years after they had finished school, Draco came to Harry almost jumping out of happiness with the news of having found someone to bear their child. It was Astoria, one of the few true friends Slytherin House had provided Draco. They never lost complete contact after school, always communicated here and there, at least in holidays and etc. Eventually the topic of Draco and Harry having decided they wanted to have a child and that they were in need of someone to bear the baby came up and she said she would be willing to volunteer, if they wanted. They were more than happy to accept and couldn’t thank her enough.

They mixed their sperms so that they didn’t have to decide who would be the donor, but when the baby was born it was clear whose sperm had won the race. Scorpius had every resemblance to Draco.

*

Harry and Draco’s lives were really very random. Never would any of them have imagined, back in the first years of Hogwarts, that they would be together, _living_ together, and living in Grimmauld Place, the old Black family house.

Harry was the rightful owner of that house ever since his uncle Sirius dies and left it for him, so they decided to go live there. Of course the house needed tons of repairing, but nothing that with the help of the whole of the Weasley family and some more friends they didn’t manage to do after a laborious month of incessant work.

After all the effort, the house was hex-free and Harry and Draco could move in definitely. It was a place marked by hate and horrid acts, but Harry and Draco took this as an opportunity to give it a new meaning. Like their relationship itself, they got what was marked by the darkness and shed light upon, giving it a new purpose, a new life. Now Grimmauld Place, number 12 – once the home of a hateful family – was the home of a newborn family full of love and happiness. Years later, when Scorpius arrived, he wouldn’t be able to dream that that house was once inhabited by bad people.

*

“What’re you reading, Scorps?” Draco asked as he entered the room where Scorpius was. It was a large room that had suffered the most changes. It used to be dark with no windows. Not it had a huge window that covered most of the wall that faced the street. The furniture was also changed – it now had a sofa, an armchair, a little table and shelves filled with books.

“Oh, just some book Rose lent me,” Scorpius, who was 15 now, showed the cover of the book to Draco. “I’m not very fond of it, I was just giving it a try as a light reading before I have to get back to revising.”

Draco went back to the door frame of the room and called “Hey, honey?” to the kitchen. “Yes?” came Harry’s answer. “Come here! And bring some tea, why don’t you?” Draco said. A minute later Harry arrived with a tray with tea for the three. Scorpius was in the armchair, so Harry and Draco accommodated themselves in the sofa.

And that was life at the house of the Potter-Malfoy, calmness at last in the lives of Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy.

Scorpius came home every vacation and holiday season, when they would all go to the Burrow and feast with the Weasley. Scorpius had a new exciting news regarding his studies every visit he made home, ever changing what career path he wanted to follow. Draco sometimes worried he wouldn’t manage to “find himself” and would be skipping jobs, but Harry always assured him that the kid would be just fine. “We managed, didn’t we?” Harry would say. They both worked at the ministry, Harry was an Auror and Draco worked at finances.

*

“If you were to get a tattoo, what would it be?” Harry asked Draco one night, as they lay in bed, Harry lying on Draco’s chest, like usual.

“I don’t know. Maybe the wound from the Sectumsempra spell you cast at me in our sixth year.”

Harry was taken aback. “What? Why?”

“Sometimes I think about that day. It feels like a reminder sometimes. That bad situation don’t mean anything. A situation might seem impossible to get worse, but then it can suddenly turn into a very good thing. Like it did. How about you?”

“Wow, that was… deep. I don’t know, I was kinda expecting something more like your House mascot or something,” Harry said. They laughed at this. After a moment of thinking, Harry continued, “Well, the word of that spell – Sectumsempra – comes from _sectum_ , which means ‘cut,’ and semper, which mean ‘always.’ That’s a good word, _always_. And it makes me think of us.”

“I like this.”

“Yeah,” Harry said. “But I’m not going to actually get a tattoo.”

“Then why the question?”

“I was looking at the one on your arm. You never really had a choice, so I was curious what would you get if you had.” Harry said. After a few seconds in silence he spoke again. “I guess that’s it, right? What you said about the reminder. The tattoo on your arm does it, it reminds you of how a bad situation can lead to something good. You don’t even need to get a new one.” Harry’s voice was already getting slurred as he got more and more sleepy. “I like your tattoo, you know? I reminds me of how people can change for the better. It reminds me that I can always change for the better… to be better… for you… as you were… better for me. You’re so much better than me.”

Before Draco could answer to that and say he disagreed, he noticed Harry was already sleeping. He rearranged himself and Harry so that they could both go to sleep.

“I disagree, Harry,” Draco said anyway. “You are so much better than you think.”

Draco went to sleep thinking of how he hadn’t had, ever since leaving school, the scary feeling. And he wouldn’t ever have it again.


End file.
